The Sky's the Limit
by AtrophiedHeart
Summary: TF Prime, 2/2. Rated teen for violence - Starscream has a virus. Seven might be going insane. The war between 'Bots and 'Cons is at its climax. And then there are those dreams: maybe there is something greater worth fighting for… greater than winning…
1. 1 - Armada

**A/N: It begins. Literally. This is the SECOND book in the story, so read the first one before it or things will be very, very confusing.**

* * *

I - Armada

My optics fluttered open, staring at something pale blue speckled with white. The sky, marred by a smudge of black. Cold wind rushed past my chassis.

Then my optics onlined at full charge and I started, realizing the situation I was in. I transformed without a second thought, feeling my engine beginning to stall as I tried to slow my free fall to the planet's surface. I slowly came to a stop a few feet above the hard-packed soil, transforming back into my bipedal mode.

"Wh-what just happened?" I wondered nervously, watching Megatron's warship, formerly a black smudge, cruise off high above the horizon. I glanced back at my wings, the fresh coat of paint gleaming in the noonday light. And then leapt up into the air, flying back over to the abandoned mine in an attempt to piece together what my memories failed to yield.

I circled above the mine, looking below. The energon was gone, only dusty, tan boulders remaining. When I fell, I must have gotten picked up on accident as the _Nemesis_ ' crew retrieved their energon. There were holes in the floors of the rooms where energon was picked up and then later transported throughout the ship. I must have somehow slipped out of a hole…

* * *

 ** _Earlier..._**

"And… done!" Miko squealed happily, stepping back to admire her handiwork. Seven happily flitted his wings, sending globules of wet red paint flying onto the girl. "Yegh," she flicked a splotch off her tongue. My clone now had twin red stripes down the tips of his wings, a way to tell the two of us apart. "Say 'cheese'!" The girl whipped out her pink cell phone and held it up, smiling at it with Seven behind her, the jet rolling his optics at the camera. She took a couple pictures and showed them to my double, who gave her a look.

"Bulkhead, I'm surprised you were even capable of having an idea, let alone one such as this." I sneered at the green mech.

"At least I don't have a screw loose." He shot back playfully.

"I am quite sane, thank you very much!"

Seven jabbed a sharp thumb at me, "What he said."

Bumblebee walked into the room, [What is it this time?]

I sighed, "Three months ago, I regained my T-Cog. But now, more than ever, I cannot escape any of you."

Arcee chuckled quietly, "It's a package deal."

"Speaking of packages," Ratchet interjected, "I have located a set of coordinates—what could potentially be an energon mine."

"Under Decepticon control?" Optimus queried.

"Oh? And who else would manage such an operation? Humans?" I answered. "Your processors are slower than your terrestrial forms." I grumbled under my vocalizer.

"You would know." Bulkhead shot back, smirking.

"As a matter of fact, I would." I replied smugly. "Under Megatron's rule, I oversaw every energon mine we possessed on this rock of a planet." I boasted, on a roll. "And, I was air commander of a squadron of energon Seekers on Cybertron."

"So we've been told." Arcee said dryly, "Once or twice."

"A minute." Bulkhead added. I gave him a look.

"Starscream, it then appears that you are best equipped at present to handle such a task. However, with your knowledge of Decepticon mining locations, you shall be of more use to us pinpointing their coordinates. Then we may send teams out to take the energon and decimate their mines." Optimus said.

"Or, take the mines and decimate their energon, depends how things play out." Seven added, twisted around to examine his new red stripes. His wings fluttered happily.

"Seven, you shall go in place of Starscream." The Prime stated.

My clone frowned, "Are you suggesting _I_ am the expendable one?"

"We didn't paint Starscream's wings." Arcee smirked.

He huffed, "Seven, do this. Sev, do that. It seems all I'm good for is fetching things."

"Scream cloned you to do his dirty work." Jack guessed. "Why am I not surprised?"

Miko tossed Oliver the can of red spray paint she had been holding. The other human fumbled and dropped it, turning his blue jeans a nice shade of maroon.

"Miko, he groaned, picking at it, "my mom's gonna freak, this'll never come out."

"Whoopsie." She apologized, gingerly picking up the can of paint and set it on a nearby table like it was as volatile as a grenade. Ratchet rolled his optics, lightly shaking his helm in exasperation.

"Perhaps it would be best for the five of you to depart for now." Optimus suggested.

"One-stop shopping." Miko smiled, "I'd better not miss any action," she pointed accusingly at Bulkhead.

"No promises." The green mech said, raising his servos with a smirk.

"First stop, the mall." Will announced. "Cheer up, Ollie, maybe we'll find a cool video game or something!" He clapped his friend on the back.

Oliver brightened, "There are a couple I've been waiting for." The five humans exited via ground bridge a minute later. There now was a sole trail of red shoe prints across the floor.

"We won't forget where the ground bridge is now." Bulkhead stated, smudging one of the prints with the tip of his pede.

"Now that is over with…" I trailed off, looking to the others.

"Energon." Seven grumbled, slouching over to the bridge as Ratchet changed the targeted coordinates. My clone walked through without a backward glance.

"Now I have map duty." I plodded over to the console, next to the medic. "Move." I ordered.

"You cannot just–"

"I said _move_." He reluctantly stepped away from the screens. My fingers flew over the keys as I entered a couple sets of coordinates. "If Megatron ever catches me," I muttered beneath my vocalizer, "I am well and truly fragged."

"If you feel safer in a cell, there's one with your name on it." Arcee simpered.

"Your speed is impressive," Ratchet remarked offhandedly, trying to edge in front of me.

"What are you doing?" I snapped.

"Commandeering my workplace, _commander_." He retorted. I backed away, allowing him access to the first set of coordinates.

My wings vibrated with annoyance, "This is not a democracy."

"I never said it was." He didn't even glance up from the console, but I could hear the smirk in his tone.

"Are you finished?"

"Will someone please keep him occupied?" Ratchet groaned.

"Hey Scream, up for a lob game?" Bulkhead offered.

"Pass." I huffed, watching the screens with disinterest. A few seconds later, I was blindsided as something heavy crashed into my side. I staggered, watching a lob ball fall to the floor. "What is your malfunction?!" I screeched, picking it up and hurled the slagging thing at his helm. He ducked, grinning. Arcee rolled her optics and Bumblebee whirled in laughter.

* * *

"Hm, clearly this is a recent establishment," I noted, gazing down at the rugged walls of the pit, "energon… boxed and ready for transport." I transformed and landed gracefully at the lip of a massive, roughly circular hole drilling deep into the ground. Surely enough, orderly little rows of boxed energon cubes sat at the bottom, waiting for Megatron to fly in and snatch them up. But not if I got to them first. I started scaling down the side. I didn't simply fly in, knowing full well that mines can be structurally unstable. If I had transformed at the bottom and landed the wrong way, I could have found myself buried under massive amounts of rubble.

"Yes, that would most definitely ruin my day." I eyed the jagged sides of the hole where I hung.

Without warning, a rock dislodged beneath my right pede. I lost my balance, tenaciously clinging to a ledge by my fingertips. I scrabbled for a foothold, not finding any. I tried for a better handhold, and thankfully, found one. But when I put a bit more of my weight on it, it came away in my grasp, attached to a boulder.

"Scrap!" I yelped, beginning to fall, the rock slipping out of my grasp. It fell in a direct path to my helm. I whirled around just in time for the ground to come rushing up to meet me.

* * *

"Optimus, no word yet from Seven." Ratchet announced. "But I am detecting some rather curious subterranean frequencies." Intrigued, we all approached behind the medic to afford a better view of the screens.

"Of earthly origin?" Optimus queried.

"I do not yet know what they are," he answered, "but I do know where." A location popped up on the center screen.

Optimus' optics narrowed, "The location at which we last encountered Megatron."

"And Airachnid." Arcee piped up.

" _And_ her Insecticon, after Starscream set us up." Ratchet added.

"Wh–how was I supposed to know Megatron would be there?!" I replied defensively. I only received a few glares in reply. "Well, excuse me if I missed some of her plans while I was crawling through a narrow crevasse, trying to keep the vermin from from chewing my leg off!"

"And you can thank me for stitching you up afterwards." Ratchet added. I huffed, crossing my arms and looked the other way.

[When do we roll?] Bumblebee asked, breaking the silence.

* * *

I exited the bridge last, trailing last behind Arcee, Bumblebee, and Optimus. Ratchet had elected Bulkhead to remain behind, with the Prime's consent. We stood atop a short, rocky cliff, with a pine forest behind us, and Airachnid beneath the cliff face with her back to us. A massive Insecticon army flew out from an unseen cave beneath our pedes, taking off into the horizon.

"We are, in all likelihood, witnessing the launch of an attempt to terminate Megatron." Optimus said.

"I can't think of a reason to stop that, even if we could." Arcee added.

"Yes, I planted that idea in her helm at the mine…" I trailed off, a similar idea striking me.

"Of course you did." The femme replied cooly, "Was it before or after her bug tried to squash you?"

Optimus stopped me from snapping at her, "What is paramount is to stop Airachnid, not argue amongst ourselves." He gave us both a look so full of disappointment, it was impossible for me not to quail a bit underneath his stare. The three of them onlined their blasters and trained them on Airachnid. The spider somehow noticed us, spinning around.

"Rear guard, engage the Autobots." She purred, failing to see me behind Optimus. I hesitated, my helm whipping from side to side, trying to choose between fighting or flying. I finally picked one, darting out from behind Optimus, to Airachnid's surprise, and dove off the cliff's edge. I transformed at a dangerously low height for any except the best of fliers, Airachnid ducked and I zipped over her. I shot up at the approaching Insecticons, firing a missile. Two dropped from their number, landing heavily in dust plumes.

I flew off, away from the horde, pushing my engine to go faster. My chest plate gradually warmed, so I slowed down a fraction, allowing more air to cycle through my vents and cool it down. I suspected Optimus was trying to comm me, but I had disabled my link for the moment, blocking all communications. There wasn't enough time to convey my plans to the rest of them, and I doubted they would condone it.

* * *

The Insecticons converged on the trio of Autobots as Optimus tried to comm Starscream unsuccessfully. He finally gave up and loosed rapid bursts of plasma on them. The femme and scout followed suit, opening fire as well.

"I knew it!" Arcee growled, shooting at an Insecticon that had tried to flank them, "The minute things start to look down, he jets away."

[He did take out a couple Insecticons.] Bumblebee reminded her. But they abruptly stopped chatting, directing their attention to the oncoming threat looming above. Optimus sprang into the air, slashing open a gouge in an Insecticon's armor as it flew overhead. The others fired red plasma at the Autobots, aiming to terminate.

Airachnid watched smugly as smoke, fire, and small chunks of rock debris rose up from the cliff's top where the Autobots, lacking Starscream, had stood. But her smirk fell into a frown as Arcee came shooting out of the grey cloud in her vehicle mode. The spider skittered away, and the blue femme landed where she had been standing not a second ago. Airachnid scuttled off into the forest, the motorcycle hot on her trail. They disappeared into the scraggly forest at the base of the cliff face, the spider still considerably farther ahead of her.

Meanwhile, Optimus and Bumblebee shot down two Insecticons which had trailed after Arcee, and mercilessly attacked the others assailing them. Optimus felled two more simultaneously with a shot from each blaster, as Bumblebee did in another. But their optics missed two more Insecticons that followed the femmes.

Airachnid slowed to a stop in the center of a clearing, watching the motorcycle's advance far behind with wry amusement. Arcee narrowly dodged a burst of plasma to her side by one of the Insecticons flying overhead, weaving in and out of the shots from their blasters. One of the Insecticons was so preoccupied on ensuring the two-wheeler's termination, he didn't watch where he was flying and crashed into the other. His counterpart spiraled down towards Airachnid, smoke billowing from beneath his plating.

"No!" The spider shouted. Fortunately for her, the Insecticon crash landed a few paces in front of her pedes. However, by that time she had used the dust cloud kicked up by the impact to screen her from Arcee's optics, tunneling beneath the surface. Arcee transformed, skidding to a stop past the Insecticon's chassis and watched the new tunnel's entrance with a glare.

She approached cautiously and leaned over to see inside. "Underground. There's a surprise." Without further ado, she transformed out her blasters and leapt in.

Beneath her, Airachnid sent out a mental call for a portion of the hive to return and assist her. She smirked in the shadows, knowing they would arrive in a few minutes. She made sure the rest of them stayed the course to ensure Megatron's termination, and then scuttled off on her Insecticon legs in search of the the ideal place to ambush Arcee.

* * *

Bumblebee launched himself into the air, and with a swift kick he dispatched the last Insecticon flying at them. It spiraled down to the ground, and Optimus slammed another's chassis by one of its legs down on top of the other as it crashed. He straightened up as the scout walked back over to join him, optics bright with their victory.

The Prime opened a comm after seeing the yellow mech wasn't injured, "Arcee? Starscream?"

* * *

Arcee, blaster raised, walked quietly in the massive cavern where the Insecticon pods laid waiting. Some empty, others with occupants yet to be roused from stasis. Airachnid silently crouched on the side of a wall ahead of the motorcycle, knowing her armada would arrive shortly. The black femme readied her servos' blasters, a malicious grin creeping onto her faceplates.

Arcee suddenly stopped, optics narrowing as she saw her nemesis' reflection in the side of an occupied pod. Airachnid didn't waste time, opening fire the instant her cover was blown. While Arcee dodged the blasts and the accompanying rain of debris, the spider tunneled back up to the surface to greet her armada and issue instructions.

* * *

I flew into my half of the _Harbinger_ , not taking the time to transform and stroll through the halls and admire the dilapidated ship. I rocketed down the corridors, twisting to avoid debris I had yet to move. Finally, I transformed in front of a door, this one leading into a laboratory. I punched the hidden button on the side and ran through, bringing the console and its systems online, and of course turning the lights on. While the systems booted up, I re-read the formula and began to collect the first cylinder of energon, courtesy of my arm.

"Let's see," I muttered to myself, optics skimming the text, "transference of binary bonding… submolecular infusion…" I frowned at the cylinder filled with my energon, setting it on a table. My optics fell onto where I needed to insert it and I grimaced again as I saw it required five more. "Why does it require six if there are only five clones? Ah well, if that is what it takes… so be it."

A couple minutes later, I screwed the last cylinder into its proper slot, making sure it was locked in. With a heave, I pulled down the lever that began the autonomous process, feeling spent. A smirk ghosted my faceplates that I blamed on energon loss; technically, if one looked at it a certain way, this entire process was autonomous.

Sparks showered from the ceiling, electricity visibly coursing through cables running over the floor to the protoforms. I made sure my pedes were well away from them, cackling like a mad scientist, feeling that I had done more than enough to earn it. I also partially blamed that on energon loss as well…

Forgetting my exhaustion for a blissful moment, I watched the protoforms with excitement a safe distance away. Their optics glowed crimson, they grew talons, forms slimmed, missiles sprang up, wings popped out, and of course, heel struts. One by one they landed on the floor in a line, a final bolt of electricity coursing down each of them as they straightened up and stared forwards blankly.

"Follow me!" I ordered, jogging off at a brisk pace. Five sets of heels clacked on the metal behind me. At least they could listen. I ducked into the room where I stored my meager supply of energon cubes, snatching one off the top of the pile and consumed nearly half of it in a single gulp.

They all stared with blank expressions. "Do any of you have any concept of what I am doing?" I snapped, annoyed.

The first clone on my left answered sarcastically, "Drinking like a starving sparkling."

I sputtered, "Anyone else?"

The second spoke up, "Of course we do," he said in a falsely offended tone, crossing his arms.

"We are as one, Scream." The third said.

"We share your memories." Another piped up.

"Your very _feelings_." The last smirked.

"Such as how you think we are, in some ways, more unnerving than Soundwave." The first added again.

I finished my cube, leading them outside. "I said no such thing–"

"Who said anything about speaking?" Another smirked.

"Even your insatiable thirst for power," they all smirked in unison.

"But, if you all share this connection to me," I continued, unnerved, "then have you no sense of urgency?!"

"Ah, but we do." The second huffed… or was it the third?

I turned around as we exited the wreck of a ship, "Which one–ugh, never mind, I'm naming each of you." A couple of them crossed their arms.

"Will they be as creative as Seven's?" One of them rolled his optics.

I ignored him, "Let's see," I pointed at the farthest on my left, working right, "You're 'Two,' you're 'Three,' 'Four,' 'Five,' and 'Six.'"

"Why can't I be 'One'?" Two whined, letting his wings droop.

"Because of Seven: there are six of you, and one of me, therefore I qualify as 'One.' I am the first! The original!" _The only_ , I wanted to add, but feared that might not have gone over well.

"Then you'll be 'One.'" Four smirked.

"I am Starscream!" I screeched, stalking over to him and poking his chest plate. "Now shut up or you're 'Zero'!"

"Better than 'Four.'" He muttered in a huff.

"Hate to break up the party, but aren't we in a rush?" Five asked innocently.

We all exchanged glances, which took a couple seconds. "He has a point." Three agreed. The rest of us nodded, except for Five, who smugly crossed his arms.

"What are you waiting for! Don't just stand there, we have a mission!" I barked, transforming. They followed suit, and we all jetted off. I just hoped we weren't too late.

* * *

Optimus and Bumblebee watched as a group of Insecticons—not as large as the hive, but a good sum nevertheless—flew towards them.

"Airachnid has called for reinforcements." The Prime said gravely. Bumblebee chirped in assent. "Arcee?" He called into a comm.

"On my way." The motorcycle answered. "And so is Airachnid." The black femme shot out of a copse of trees on the edge of the forest just as the first Insecticons flew within shouting distance, Arcee revving her engine behind her.

"My armada!" Airachnid commanded, "Do not let a single Autobot remain alive!"

* * *

I flew low to the ground, weaving in and out of scraggly pines at dangerous speeds. My small armada of clones fanned out behind me, engines whining over the wind. We flew towards the clearing in which Optimus, Bumblebee, Arcee, and Airachnid stood, staying just out of view. We transformed, landing on the cusp of the clearing. Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over me. I staggered and a peculiar tingling sensation ran through my frame. Six's optics widened and he grasped my arm, steadying me as I shook my helm, clearing it.

"I should have had another energon cube." I scowled ruefully.

"Too late now, Volts," Five growled, transforming his blasters out, "stay out of sight until necessary."

"'Volts'?"

"Yes, spread out," Six suggested, "we will have less of an advantage if we sacrifice the element of surprise."

"The confusion of battle should provide ample cover for now." Two added.

"Go!" I hissed. They all sprinted off in different directions and I charged straight at Airachnid, talons flashing.

[Starscream!] Bumblebee exclaimed, glancing over at me for a second as he shot at the oncoming Insecticons.

"You took your time!" Arcee snarled.

"Siding with the Autobots, are you now, Starscream?" Airachnid brought an Insecticon leg up, blocking my talons with a sharp clang. "I will bring your helm to Megatron on a platter!"

"All seven of them? I would love to see you try." I sneered, aiming a kick at her legs, but she skittered backwards.

"Seven… your clone?" Optimus wondered, clearly confused as he shot down three Insecticons with amazing accuracy. Airachnid looked perplexed as well.

Two, Three, Four, Five, and Six chose that moment to charge out of the forest, forming a circle, blasters all raised and focused on Airachnid.

" _Clones_." They all corrected in unison.

Arcee blinked a couple of times and her mouth twisted into a frown, "Two of you was bad enough. Which of you is the real one?"

"We are as one!" Five snapped, looking affronted as he advanced upon Airachnid. Her armada landed in a much larger circle around all of us, with her and I at the center, then Optimus, Arcee, and Bumblebee, then my clones, and finally the Insecticons.

"Though many!" Three added.

"I am the 'real' one." I smirked, letting my remaining missile fly. The spider slashed, actually _slashed_ it out of the air with another Insecticon leg. It exploded against the ground at her pedes.

"Seriously?" Four griped.

"I would be having an easier time if you all helped me!" I retorted, dodging a shot of webbing. Optimus, Arcee, and Bumblebee were preoccupied, furiously shooting to keep the Insecticons at bay. My clones joined them, adding their red blaster fire to the mix.

"I was about to say the same!" The blue femme shouted, ducking a blow from an insect leg and firing up into its throat. It collapsed, dead. They all had their servos full; I wasn't about to be aided any time in the foreseeable future. "Just save a piece of her for me!" She added, cutting into another Insecticon.

"Perish, glitch!" I snarled, disengaging Airachnid and backpedaled, showering her with plasma. My blasters heated up, but I ignored the feeling, pressing my assault. I allowed my attacks to abate for a short moment as I panted for air, cycling my intakes and allowing my blasters to cool. Airachnid was gone, and in her place, a tunnel leading deep underground. "Figures." I huffed, plodding over to it, then coughed when smoke and dust got into my intakes.

I looked up from the chasm, observing the others' progress. The Insecticons were still fighting hard, which meant Airachnid was still functioning. Optimus was a one-mech army, cutting and gunning Insecticons down left and right. Bumblebee was doing well too, sporting a few scrapes, but otherwise was fine, alternating between punching and shooting the bugs. Arcee had taken advantage of her smaller stature, darting in between the gaps between Insecticons and slicing through their numbers, occasionally receiving a blow or scrape if she slowed. And on the other hand, my clones were herding the Insecticons towards the other Autobots with their blasters, trying to keep out of the range where they could be slashed or stabbed.

But then Three slipped up. He fired both missiles into the fray, felling a number of Insecticons and drawing quite a bit of unwanted attention to himself while doing so. A multitude of Insecticons surged towards him, over their offlined comrades. Arcee took advantage of this moment, leaping into the hole Airachnid had dug, most likely to terminate the spider. Or at least try.

I gasped, flames of pain raking down over my chest plate without warning. I shakily looked up and saw I wasn't the only one feeling it right now. Optimus and Bumblebee fought their way through the horde to get to Three, who was blocked from my view by the swarm of Insecticons around him. My four other clones stood by and watched, mixtures of expressions ranging from shock to horror to terror on their faceplates.

Optimus landed a heavy punch on an Insecticon's helm, diving out of the way of what would have been a brutal kick from another. And suddenly, my view was clear. Three was in way worse shape than I was. He had four, deep-looking gouges down his front in the shape of Insecticon claws. I couldn't even tell if he was still alive or not. But the pain that I felt slowly abated until it was just a memory. I felt a little thread of a peculiar connection snap, one which I hadn't realized existed.

One of my clones suddenly flew overhead, firing both his missiles into the Insecticon numbers. I spun around, trying to discern which one had done so amidst the chaos. But all of them were accounted for. I got a closer look at the clone as he transformed right in front of me, striped wings flaring up.

"Am I too late to the party?" Seven asked innocently, charging up his blasters.

"Better late than never." I huffed. "You're less expendable than the others, so don't get yourself terminated." We had each other's backs, slowly turning in circles and firing plasma until our blasters became dangerously hot. We exchanged a glance, and then together, rushed at an oncoming Insecticon. I grinned.


	2. 2 - Armada II

II - Armada II

Arcee fell out of the bottom of the tunnel and onto the hard-packed earthen floor of the cavern. She charged up her blasters as quietly as possible, padding between the Insecticon pods in plain view. Airachnid suddenly fell from the ceiling in front of her, firing webs at the blue femme. Two were wrapped around Arcee's arms, pinning them to her sides. Airachnid rushed in, rearing her Insecticon legs up for the kill with a sadistic grin on her faceplates.

But Arcee had other ideas. She transformed out the blades on her arms, slashing through the webbing like it was wet clay. Two of Airachnid's Insecticon legs came down towards the other femme's helm but she instinctively raised her blades, blocking them at the last possible second. With a yell, she threw Airachnid off and rapidly fired her blasters at the spider. The black femme collapsed to the ground beneath the onslaught.

"When you extinguish my spark, make it hurt." Airachnid growled, "You know I would extend that courtesy to you."

"I'm not like you." Arcee retorted.

"Very well." The spider purred, lunging at her.

Arcee sidestepped, transforming her blades out again. One of Airachnid's wickedly-sharp tips of an Insecticon leg came stabbing downwards. Arcee blocked it on the edge of her blade, slicing forwards with the other. The spider snarled as it made a shallow gouge on her side. Ignoring the minor wound, Airachnid lunged at her again, but her enemy danced around an Insecticon pod and out of sight.

"I'm not here to toy with you, Arcee." The spider purred, her optics scanning the room. Arcee crouched lower to the ground, nestled in the center of a cluster of pods. "Now come on out, and I'll let you rejoin your partners."

Arcee launched herself at the black femme from behind her with a roar, "This is for TAILGATE!" And she tackled her to the ground in a tangle of Insecticon legs and flailing limbs. The blue femme had Airachnid pinned against the ground, a pede on her chest plate and a blade to her throat. The spider struggled, glowering at Arcee. "Any last words?" Arcee snarled, failing to notice one of Airachnid's Insecticon legs rising up behind her back.

Airachnid smirked, "Rest in pieces." Its tip flashed wickedly in the light as it arced downwards.

* * *

Starscream and I cackled as Insecticon chassis crashed to the ground one after another around us. "We make quite a team!" I grinned, ducking to avoid a fist as Starscream put its owner's lights out.

He looked about to agree with me, but then staggered and looked as though he had been punched square in the faceplates. I let my guard down, momentarily distracted by my double's plight. Suddenly I was flying through the air, the Insecticons screeching loudly in triumph. I hit a tree, shattering through its trunk.

I leapt to my pedes and transformed out my blasters, firing bolts of red plasma at the army of Insecticons in fury. Starscream fell to the ground to avoid my shots, crawling away from them as fast as possible for being on his knees. Then he got back up and darted over to me. Without a word, we both rushed over to join Optimus and Bumblebee, who both had acquired numerous gouges in their armor.

"Prime!" Starscream shouted over the din, "Five is offline!" That drew me up short. My helm whipped around, searching for the chassis of the clone. I spotted Five a short distance away, a stab wound puncturing through his chest plate and his faceplates dented in. I looked away.

Two, Four, and Six joined us… or at least tried to. Four and Six made it safely, but a trio of Insecticons managed to trap Two between them. The Seeker transformed, jetting upwards with a blast of fire from his thruster. The Insecticons took off in pursuit, shooting bursts of plasma at him. Starscream and I transformed our blasters out as well and shot at them, but they dodged the projectiles. I snarled in frustration, pressing my assault.

Inevitably, one of their shots clipped Two's wing and he crashed into a boulder. Starscream stumbled and clutched his right shoulder plate. An Insecticon on the ground charged the Seeker, seeing his weakness. Then a clang rang out. The Insecticon suddenly stopped in its tracks, then slowly turned around as if surprised. Four stood behind him, panting slightly.

"Oh, so you want another one then?" He growled, picking up a mid-sized rock. His optics met mine for only a millisecond, but I got the message.

"Those will be your last words." The Insecticon hissed in the garbled tones of its species.

"So be it," the Seeker snarled back. "At least I don't have to speak with those revolting _things_ in my mouth!" The Insecticon screeched in rage and Four hurled the rock at his helm, buying Starscream and I time. From the sound of it, he didn't miss. I helped my double away from the fight, not seeing the aftermath after the rock left his servo. I was pretty sure I got the gist of it, however, from the way Starscream gasped and clawed at his neck cables.

"Hang in there," I muttered, quickening my pace and straining to see the battle over my shoulder plate. The Insecticon released Four, and his chassis crumpled to the ground, energon flowing freely from the lacerations on his neck. Starscream moaned quietly and shuddered, but we kept running. I edged closer to him just in case. I tripped over a rock but quickly regained my balance, urging my double to run faster.

"It's only the three of us now." Six panted from my other side.

"Six." Starscream corrected.

"What?" The other clone hissed.

"No, _six_ , the three of us plus the others." I huffed. "We're wasting time. Starscream, can you walk?"

Six was worried, seeing several Insecticons drawing closer. "Can you run?"

"I can do better than that." he growled, standing up straighter and transformed out his blasters. For the first time, I noticed that between the three of us, only Six had a missile remaining. Starscream noticed this as well and frowned, looking up at the ensuing fray drifting away from us. "It would seem that things are at sixes and sevens."

"By the Allspark, Starscream, is that really necessary?!" I groaned loudly.

He grinned, "Absolutely."

"Six, you shall do the honors." I pointed at a few Insecticons converging on us outside the meager barrier the foliage provided.

"Who put you in charge?" Starscream growled at me, miffed.

I huffed, "I'm the one watching your six."

"Et tu, Seven?" Six gave me an exasperated look and loosed the missile. One bright explosion later, the three Insecticons collapsed, shrapnel from the first's backside riddling the other two. Starscream nodded with approval, grinning menacingly. But we all froze when something long and sharp suddenly sprouted out from Six's chest plate.

Six slowly looked down at the energon already beginning to flow, then back up at us, surprise etched into his features. Then his optics went dark. An Insecticon warrior with white, barbaric stripes across his faceplates and mandibles towered up behind the offlined Seeker. He extracted his claw from Six's chest plate, and he crumpled to the ground in a mess of energon. Starscream fell against me, his optics squeezed shut, panting rapidly.

I helped him back up and he shook his helm, "Better," he mumbled.

The Insecticon screamed and raised its legs, trying to intimidate us. "I have slain countless Autobots!"

"Good for you." I snarled, and we used our thrusters to boost our paces as we fled the Insecticon.

"PRIME!" I screeched as we burst through the brush. "We need to retreat!" Our optics locked for a millisecond and I could tell he conceded, thinking the same thing. He swiped at yet another Insecticon with his sword but missed.

"We must retrieve Arcee!" He shouted over the din of the battle.

Suddenly the noise vanished, replaced by an unchallenged, muffling silence. My audials rang; it had become too quiet, too quickly. The Insecticons had brought their assault to a screeching halt, now they just stood in their tracks, staring at us blankly.

I cackled with glee, and all other Autobot helms swiveled to stare at me as if I had lost it. "Arcee must have vanquished Airachnid, the glitch!" I exclaimed, wings quivering from exhaustion and elation.

Sure enough, the Prime's comm unit pinged. He answered it.

"Optimus, I'll need some help carrying Airachnid out of here." Arcee's voice crackled on the other end.

"Affirmative." Optimus said, walking to the hole and jumped into it.

[What about Starscream?] Bumblebee chirped, tiredly plodding over to see the state of my double. I had to admit, I had momentarily forgotten about him amid all the confusion at present.

"Yes, what about him?" Starscream faced at the scout irritably, looking tired himself.

"He's fine," I translated.

* * *

Arcee watched the mouth of the hole high above her in the roof of the cavern, waiting for Optimus. The Prime fell in, landing in a thick cloud of dust.

"How nice of you to drop in." Arcee smiled at him.

He didn't smile back, however, preoccupied with his own thoughts. "Where is Airachnid?"

Arcee pointed at an Insecticon pod behind her with the spider trapped inside of it, locked in stasis and frozen in mid-scream.

* * *

My optics fell on the Insecticons, standing around us like sentinels; watching, but not moving against us. I grimaced, seeing Four and Five's chassis lying not too far away. Three's was closer. My pained expression stared back at me, reflected in the pool of energon beneath him. I averted my gaze, tank churning.

Then I noticed they weren't the only ones leaking energon. My right side was wet just above my hip, however, the wound itself didn't look anything like what an Insecticon could inflict and was relatively minor.

"We are unaware of how you acquired that." Seven said.

[Does it hurt much?] Bumblebee asked.

"No," I sighed, "not much. Thank you for asking."

Seven's optics narrowed as he studied my frame, "Are you certain you're fine?"

My optics narrowed as well, "Yes, why?"

"Because you just were polite. But don't fret, it's gone now."

I glared at him, and Bumblebee whirled in laughter. Then I started chuckling a bit too once Seven had joined in. I couldn't tell whether his comment was genuinely humorous, or if my nerves were just that frayed. It could've easily been either.

"What are Prime and that femme doing down there?" I wondered when we had to pause for air, gingerly laying a servo on my throbbing side and looking to them. We all blinked at each other, then burst out in a harder fit of laughter again. I felt my faceplates warm, "I-I didn't mean it like that!"

Seven slapped me, grinning like a fool.

As if I just needed to ask, Prime walked out of the maw of the cave in the cliff face. He and Arcee jointly carried something large and heavy, from the look of it. The three of us joined up with them, and they dropped the thing on the ground. It clanged sharply against the rocks.

"An Insecticon pod?" Seven huffed suspiciously, "Why–" Arcee spun it around so the front was visible.

"Airachnid!" I exclaimed, instinctively taking a step back.

"When the Insecticons ceased their assault, I thought you had terminated her." Seven groused.

"I intended to." Arcee agreed.

* * *

Seven yawned tiredly, his wings fluttering slightly as he leaned back against Ratchet's med berth.

"Perhaps we ought to save that for the mechs and femme who require actual repairs." Ratchet's tone was far from suggestive. Bumblebee nudged my clone off the berth. Seven frowned at him but complied, edging out of the way. He took a seat next to me.

"Watch it!" I scowled as one of his wings smacked me in the faceplates.

"Oh?" He smirked and flapped them so the same one hit my helm over and over.

I lightheartedly shoved him off the ledge we were sitting on, but then winced at a sharp tug of pain in my side.

"What now?" Ratchet asked, glancing up and seeing my expression.

"It's nothing." I replied hastily, trying to hide the wound by placing my servo over it. My palm slowly grew sticky.

"If it is nothing, then you should have no issue with me taking a look at it." He huffed and finished applying a patch to Bumblebee's last wound.

"Oh, please," I groaned, twisting away from him, "tend to the others first."

He ignored me, sweeping his scanner over my side. I reluctantly dropped my servo.

"Bug get you?" Bulkhead asked, twirling a mop. Then he fumbled and dropped it.

I noticed the line of red shoe prints was gone with a smug smirk, "No, actually."

"There is no diagnosis that would fit this type of injury that I can think of, except from self-infliction." Ratchet finally announced.

"He did that to himself!?" Bulkhead exclaimed in shock. The others wore similar expressions of surprise and disgust.

"I believe what Ratchet is trying to convey is not that he intentionally harmed himself, but merely tore the weld open from his surgery months ago." Optimus clarified, and Ratchet nodded in affirmation.

"Oh, now that's just grand." I groaned, rolling my optics.

"Tell that to your clones." Arcee said. "They're the ones pushing up lugnuts."

"Plural?!" Ratchet gasped.

"Did I stutter?"

"B-but the technology to create clones—the ability to create malleable protoforms that could, and would, mind you, instantly conform to whichever sample of Cyber Nucleic Acid they were injected with was lost eons ago!" He exclaimed. Seven gave the medic a look and cleared his vocalizer loudly.

"This day's sure seen its share of surprises." Bulkhead quipped.

Seven shook his helm, "Like you wouldn't believe."

"Aww, I missed the Starmada!" Miko groaned, "I bet it was awesome! I can't believe I was buying _Oliver here_ new pants when I could've seen the throwdown!"

"Hey, it was your fault." Oliver replied defensively. My wings twitched in annoyance; with all the quiet, I had forgotten for the moment that the humans were here.

"Starmada? Really?" Jack rolled his eyes and she grinned mischievously.

"Come." Ratchet said. I followed the medic over to the med berth and sat down, he began to stem the leakage.

"That was why you jetted off." Arcee said, a note of disdain evident in her tone.

I cleared my vocalizer loudly, "And if I hadn't, where would we be now, hm?" My voice came out higher than usual, thanks to Ratchet probing my wound with a long pair of tweezers. "Must you?" I snarled at him.

"Yip, ip ip. Hold still and it will hurt less."

I rolled my optics, "Knock Out used to say that after every new round of Megatron's 'discipline.'"

"Wait, back up. It makes sense that Megatron mistreats his troopers, but a high-ranking 'Con like you? Sorry, but I'm not buying it." the femme frowned.

"Oh, I think he _loved_ making sport of me." I spat, "I, his _second-in-command_ , was the perfect scapegoat for everything that went wrong, whether it had been my fault or not."

"He beat you?" Optimus rumbled, concern creasing his brow.

My wings sank, "That is a fact of history, Prime. But I must confess, I thought it was obvious. Do you remember the time I raised Skyquake with dark energon?"

"Come to think of it, you were pretty beat-up at the time." Arcee noted.

"Jeez, Scream." Bulkhead frowned in sympathy, "No wonder you always were such a–"

I silenced him with a glare. "I said it is _history_ ," I growled, making it crystal-clear that subject was closed.

Bumblebee cleared his synthesizer with an odd-sounding chirp after an awkward moment of silence, [And was Knock Out right?]

I looked at the green mech, "It was his favorite phrase to use before he wo–AUGH!" Ratchet had stuck his tweezers in deeper and jerked a piece of shrapnel out. He set it under a device on a table and I felt that strange tingling sensation come over my frame again, but dissipated just as quickly.

"… do that." Arcee finished, struggling to suppress a smirk.

"The two of you share a bad habit." I griped, frowning at the medic.

[Your clones… you were saying?] Bumblebee reminded me.

"Ah, yes." I began. Seven crossed his arms, looking at me strangely. "I flew to the _Harbinger_ to find the five other protoforms, and injected them with my energon, my CNA."

"And exactly how much energon was that, dare I ask?" Ratchet inquired.

Will cut in before I could answer him, "Six cylinders, about yea big." He held his arms out as far as they would go.

"And how might you know that?" My optics narrowed. Everyone else looked at him, silently asking the same question.

The human didn't miss a beat, "I saw the place where you'd have to stick them when we made Seven: six circular slots."

"Never utter that again." Seven warned. "If you do, you will feel great amounts of discomfort shortly after."

"That would be quite a bit of energon." Ratchet noted, ignoring my clone's threat.

"However, I did refuel afterwards." I added. "Though, I regret to add that Two, Three, Four, Five, and Six all perished in battle. Tragic, nonetheless, they were highly expendable."

"Oh, I would not be so sure." A voice spoke up from the tunnel, uncannily like my own.

We were all stunned into silence. One of my clones walked into the room, blasters raised and trained on me. I noticed in the split second before he spoke again that his chassis was dented and scraped up all over. The tip of his left wing had been shot off, his right shoulder plate was nowhere to be found, and his missiles were, well, missing.

"But believe me, you are next."


	3. 3 - Armada III

III - Armada III

"You left me for scrap!" The clone snarled, optics burning with hatred.

"I will be over here." I took a few wary steps back, feeling my banded wings dip.

"I watched every single one of you PERISH!" Starscream shot back, stalking forwards and harshly poked his chest plate, heedless of the clone's blasters. "Three was mauled! Five was stabbed! Two was shot by Insecticons–"

"And I survived!" The clone—who must have been Two—pointed out as if we were unaware.

"How is that my fault?!" Starscream cried. "You were buried under rubble from the crash and I could feel your pain then, even now!"

Ratchet looked more than ready to object out of curiosity, but the pair were on a roll. Two jabbed his blasters at Starscream, forcing him to take a step back. "If you manage to wound me," he snarled, "you shall feel it as well." Starscream's optics narrowed at that. "If you even terminate me, well, the odds are not exactly in your favor, now are they?"

"It's a Catch-22." Jack breathed.

"Catch-44. Twice as bad." Miko suggested, leaning so far off the platform that I was sure she would fall.

"Catch-404: victor not found," Raf murmured, smirking slightly. It would've been funny had the situation not been so dire.

Optimus was about to step in as the pair began to circle each other, but Starscream stopped him. "No! This is between us!"

"As your physician, you cannot–"

"Shut up!" Starscream snapped. Two transformed his blasters away, aiming a swift kick at Starscream's legs. The Seeker skittered back, but not until after he had received a shallow scrape from his clone's talons.

"As for me, I cannot feel _your_ pain, which gives me the upper hand!" Two grinned malevolently. Starscream transformed out the blaster on his right arm, landing a shot on his double's formerly uninjured wing.

"Yeah!" Will cheered. Starscream grimaced, and for a brief moment they both wore pained expressions, however, only one had sustained damage. Starscream lunged and tackled him to the floor. They landed in a tangle of arms and legs and a shower of sparks. The Seeker punched his clone in the faceplates.

"Why are–" Two said vehemently between blows, "you–" another punch, "hitting–" another, "yourself?!"

Starscream fell off him, looking dazed. "You have to beat him fast, it's the only way!" Jack shouted encouragingly. "You can do this!"

The jet tried to rise, but Two grabbed him and dug his talons into the exact spot on his side where the patch was. Starscream shrieked, his legs kicking out and several wiry bolts of whitish-blue electricity shot through his frame. This time everyone saw it and a couple bots even gasped. Optimus decided to intervene, running towards the pair. He tore Two off Starscream by his neck cables, tightly enough to constrict his movement, but not enough to make Starscream feel his pain as well.

Two kicked feebly, optics widening. "P-p-please…" he choked out. Optimus hesitated for a second, but a second was all that Two needed. He uppercutted the Prime, who dropped him in surprise. The Seeker dashed back over to Starscream and kicked him in his side where his wound was, having reopened, eliciting another shriek and ensuing burst of electricity. He transformed out a blaster and shot him in the center of his chest plate before anyone could react.

He planted a pede on top of the wound, "Any final words?" His blaster charged up. Starscream snarled up at him, optics smoldering.

"I was about to ask you the same." Two spun around in terror right as Bulkhead's wrecking ball met his faceplates. He crumpled on top of his double.

The green mech dragged Two off him, mumbling an apology. Starscream's optics were flickering and his intakes were ragged.

"That was intense!" Will finally breathed.

"You can say that again." Miko agreed.

"That was intense."

She punched him amiably, "Not literally, dude!"

"Duh!" He replied with a smirk, rubbing his arm. "What am I, brain-dead?"

"Shh!" I hissed at them, not knowing how they could act so idiotic in such a serious situation. Arcee warily checked Two for any signs of life while Bumblebee helped Starscream to his pedes. The scout chirped, asking if he was all right.

"I've been better," the Seeker answered in a staticky voice, "but it should pass in a moment, hopefully. I haven't gotten it down to a science." Ratchet proceeded to patch up his chest plate, then his side, again.

"I find it rather curious that you and Seven do not share this special 'connection.'" The medic added thoughtfully while applying a sticky sealing agent.

"That is something to be discussed at a later time." Starscream huffed. "Watch your fingers!"

"Then what is Two's condition?" The medic inquired, glancing up at Arcee while intentionally poking the jet, who irritably jabbed him with his talons in turn.

She glanced up from his chassis, "There isn't anything you can do that's going to help him now."

Ratchet swiftly finished Starscream's patches, looking to Optimus. "Your turn–hold on… what is this?"

"What?" Starscream asked, an edge of anxiety creeping into his tone.

"I will wait." Optimus assured the medic. Ratchet onlined his built-in scanner, sweeping it over the nervous Seeker's side.

"Is it my T-Cog?"

"I am not yet sure, but quite possibly." He replied. I locked optics with my double, almost feeling his distress.

"Your T-Cog appears to be undamaged," he began, switching off the scanner's red beam of light. Starscream let out a quiet, relieved sigh. "However, I have found there to be an… anomaly in its biosignature."

"Such as…?" my double prodded nervously.

"It seems that more detailed nano-mechanisms have been compromised in some way, but by what… well, it could be loss of binary coefficients in its code, altering its armature, or perhaps–"

"English please, doc. Not all of us are as smart as you are." Bulkhead suggested humorlessly.

"My name is not 'doc'!" He barked. "And what I said was simply that an outside source has somehow altered a fragment of Starscream's T-Cog." The Seeker winced as if receiving a blow.

"Moreover," he continued in a gentler tone, "it carries the obvious indicators of a virus."

* * *

I waited for someone to say it was a joke, to shout out "April fool!" or taunt me for believing it, because my expression certainly betrayed my mixed emotions. Except if Ratchet informed me he possessed a sense of humor—a cruel one at that—I would question my sanity.

"So… Screamy's sick?" Miko finally asked apprehensively, tapping two fingers together.

"In essence, yes." The medic replied. "That is what I'm being led to believe."

"With what?" I asked, halfheartedly picking at the new patch on my side. Worry gnawed at my tank like the dull teeth of an animal. Everyone was silent for a moment, an excruciatingly long moment. Optimus laid a servo on my shoulder plate as I stared at the ground, not saying anything. Neither of us needed to. "Please, please tell me it isn't Cybonic Plague." I whimpered, my optics meeting the medic's, then the Prime's. There were mixtures of pity, worry, and caution in those little blue orbs.

Ratchet picked up the sliver of metal from my side out from under a microscope, "It has already come up negative. But that is not what worries me; one could stick several labels on this, but none that read 'Cybertronian.'"

"Cybertron went dark eons ago," Arcee reasoned, "and no one that flew to this planet, 'Bot or 'Con, was infected. With anything." Arcee pointed out, but not sounding so sure.

Optimus looked down at her somberly, "I sincerely hope that to be true."

* * *

"Can none of you successfully capture a Transformer?" Silas' fist slammed down onto a table, rattling the various tools that used to lay in orderly rows.

"Sir, the subject Breakdown–"

"Did I ask of past failures, soldier?" MECH's leader hissed.

"No, sir." The same one replied.

"Then give me an answer." His tone was deadly calm. "Speak when you are spoken to!"

A second soldier sighed quietly, "Platoons A through E have been unsuccessful in detaining any Transformers, sir."

"Now, was that so hard?" Silas purred, stalking around him. He stopped behind his soldier, staring in front of him and up at Breakdown's chassis. It sagged from a set of heavy chains against the wall, a few inches off the floor. "If you had all failed, then what am I looking at?"

"Transformer Breakdown's remains." Another cautiously answered.

"Exactly." Silas agreed, walking around to face the second soldier.

"Sir, is it somehow a bad thing?" He wondered.

"Use your eyes, does it look alive to you?" MECH's leader hissed, hands clasped behind his back as he proceeded to circle the soldier.

"No, sir."

"That is what's wrong. Not a single member of MECH has proven himself capable of capturing and holding a Transformer, and I intend to change that." Silas growled.

"Sir, I mean no disrespect, but no single person could detain a Transformer." The second soldier reminded him. "Not with the resources we presently have at our disposal."

"Starting with you." MECH's leader growled, seemingly ignoring his comment. He grabbed a pistol, holding it like he knew every square millimeter of it, like a man to which it was nearly an extension of his arm. A loud shot rang out. "Does anyone else think they know how?"

No one answered, fearfully watching him beneath their armored masks. Two soldiers stepped forwards and began to clean up the body. Silas silently watched them for a moment, the scars on his face adding depth to the shadows already present from the dim room.

"Be that as it may," he continued, piercing the heavy silence, "but Project: Chimera is well under way. Soon enough, if the faction that calls themselves 'Autobots' are as intelligent life forms as they claim to be, then we shall receive custody of a live Transformer." He smirked, deepening the shadows even more.

* * *

Ratchet had been unsuccessful in finding anything other than the indication that the virus was in my T-Cog in the first place. He couldn't even identify what it was, let alone where it came from. There were no known records of this strain, which only made me feel worse. But so far, it wasn't spreading, which was good enough for me at the moment as I flew above a sparkling human city.

I had decided to mostly avoid cities, thanks to Seven's bad experiences with them; from the time he flew above the so-called Empire State in New York and almost was blown to pieces, to when he crashed into a skyscraper in Los Angeles.

But I couldn't help myself as I soared high above another city by the name of Seattle, in the territory called Washington. These names seemed random, almost like gibberish to me, like "New York." But "Los Angeles," as Raf had informed Seven and I, translated to "The Angels" from the human language Spanish.

"Leave it to humans to create the most ludicrous of words." I grumbled to myself, zeroing in on the structure called the "Space Needle," but keeping my distance so not to draw attention to myself. It had an even more intriguing style of architecture than from what Seven thought of the Empire State Building. Its narrow, white pillars that supported the disc at the top had an elegant, pearly quality to them; they gleamed more brightly than anything else to be seen in the fading light. Knock Out, ever so eloquent with his word choices, would have described it, in awe, as "shiny."

I did a large loop through a couple of clouds, basking in the fading light. "Ah, what better a way is there to take one's thoughts off present matters for a moment–" My comm suddenly pinged. I answered it, and a gruff, vaguely familiar voice spoke up before I could even open my mouth. That is, in a manner of speaking.

"Unknown aircraft, you are flying in United States airspace without authorization. Identify yourself."

"And to whom am I speaking?" I purred back.

"General Bryce of the–"

"Oh, you," I huffed, "you were the one who spoke with dear Agent Fowler a few weeks ago, am I wrong?"

"How do you know that?" He said, sounding mildly surprised. "That is highly classified intel–"

"I have my ways." I allowed a smirk to penetrate my tone. "I too, have, ah… conversed with Agent Fowler under more, well, _shocking_ circumstances than I am sure you have."

"And whom may I be speaking with? I'm not sure we've met." He questioned, his voice once again stoic.

"A friend, or potentially an enemy." I was having more fun with this than I should have been.

"I have a button under my finger that will launch an anti-aircraft missile if I press it, blasting you and your plane out of the sky." He growled. "So, tell me who you are, who you're working for, and what you're planning to do and this won't get any more unpleasant than it already is."

I laughed openly at that, not at all swayed by his threats, "I _am_ the plane."

"A Decepticon?" He asked, taking on a more menacing tone.

"Please. I no longer ally myself with that particular entity." I flew above the cloud where I'd opened a ground bridge from our base. The underside of my fuselage skimmed the chilly crest, dispersing the whitish fluff and causing water droplets that had condensed on my plating to come streaming off. It was oddly refreshing; I had found myself desperately needing to clear my thoughts after Ratchet's diagnosis.

Suddenly I found myself being sucked back into memories from a handful of hours ago…

* * *

"You are telling me that you cannot even identify what the virus is?" I snarled at the medic and rose up off the med berth, stalking over to him.

"Unless you are willing to undergo a biopsy, no." He stated firmly, crossing his arms. "And I can put you under to insure it's painless. Otherwise, I can perform some scans–" I cringed, "noninvasive, I assure you."

I pointed at the diminutive sliver of metal from my side under the microscope, "Doctor, then would you kindly tell me what _that_ is?"

He let out a resigned sigh, "To accurately tell you, I would require an actual _piece_ of your T-Cog."

I too crossed my arms, but in skepticism. "And what, Primus forbid, strings are attached?"

"As I said, I would need to obtain data from multiple parts of your T-Cog; to compare each of them, potentially seeing fluctuations in the virus and so forth. You do want to get better, don't you?"

"I see." There was no way that I was going to allow him to further tamper with my biomechanisms any time soon.

Arcee jumped in, "You would be able to determine if it is contagious–"

"Ratch," Miko interjected, "if it is, then aren't you all infected if you're breathing it in?!" She finished matter-of-factly. "Can we even get it?"

The medic sighed, "Though it may seem like it at times, no Cybertronian requires air to 'breathe,' however, intaking helps to regulate our temperatures. And to also answer Arcee's question," he looked at the blue femme, "from what meager information I could glean, I know that it cannot be transmitted through the air, or by any other means, so we aren't contaminated."

"Do not use the word 'contaminated' around me unless you wish for a swift removal of your glossa." I tried to hiss, but it came out sounding a bit more like a whine.

"Starscream." Optimus chastised gently, his tone laced with a layer of disapproval.

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all." Oliver quipped.

"I'll show you nice!" However, before I could do anything other than spit threats under my vocalizer, Bulkhead stepped in front of me, effectively blocking my path with his girth.

"Easy, Screamy." The green mech warned.

"Will you all stop calling me that!" I snapped, edging closer to the ground bridge controls.

[He looks okay to me.] Bumblebee chirped.

"I don't know, Bee." Raf countered, "Ratchet said that there'll be symptoms that have yet to show themselves…"

"And yet they haven't." Seven pointed out.

"I still don't get why y'all don't just quarantine him already." Miko groused.

"I think it is best for Starscream to be treated in a manner that is not confining." The Prime reasoned, looking to me, those all-too understanding blue optics seemed to drill into my very spark chamber. "And Ratchet already said it is not contagious."

"If he was–" Arcee began, but stopped when I let out a choking noise. Another realization hit me with the sharpness of a dull blade being forced through my chest plating.

"I-is it lethal?" I stuttered, looking pleadingly to Ratchet with wide optics.

He looked away quickly, "I… I cannot determine that yet."

I punched the console's screen, and with a heave so hard I was sure I had broken something inside it, I slammed the ground bridge lever down and transformed. I ignored the burning sensation beneath where my chest plate was that had almost become familiar, and with a blast from my thruster, flew through the portal.

"Let him go," I heard Optimus say before his words were whisked away on the wind, "the kindest thing we can do for him now is to give him time, old friend."

Ratchet's voice replied gravely, barely audible to me, "I fear time is one thing he does not have."

* * *

General Bryce's voice roared over the comm link. "ANSWER ME, YOU–"

"I'm here." My voice quavered while I tried to answer calmly; I was shaken by the flashback.

I could almost see the man pinch the bridge of his nose as his next words came out in a soft growl, "I will give you one last chance. Get your act together or get out, before I involve my superiors and tell them that dangerous Decepticons are flying around unaccounted for!"

I banked sharply back around towards the city, realizing just how far I had flown and not wanting to say anything more to General Bryce.

"Well, Starscream, if you will not yield…" he trailed off, leaving me to wonder how he knew my designation and what he was implying.

"I never said anything about not yielding." I retorted, relieved to find that the quaver had vanished from my tone.

"Which is precisely why I am doing this."

I didn't even notice the squadron of jets advancing on my tail, too tangled up in the webs of my thoughts.

Then the comm link cut out with a final burst of static as the jets swooped around and into my field of view, five of them, all identical. For a brief, panicked moment, I thought they were my clones, back from the grave. But their design was different; more heavily built, such as having two vertical stabilizers instead of one. When we first arrived on Earth, I scanned an F-16. But these looked like F-24s—I had once searched other types of human military jets to compare with my alt mode. I didn't find anything that I would want to scan, satisfied with mine.

They simultaneously opened fire, and I dropped like a stone, snapping out of my reverie.


	4. 4 - Flying Mind

IV - Flying Mind

Wind whistled between my wings as I plummeted in freefall towards Earth's surface, reaching terminal velocity. The human pilots manning the other five jets seemed surprised by this tactic, merely circling above me in formation for a brief moment before regaining their wits and beginning pursuit. Their engines screamed down towards me, bullets pinging against my chassis in an attack so feeble one could nearly find it funny.

I flew upwards, passing them at speeds that their pathetic excuses for jets wouldn't even be able to follow with their sensors. The shot up after me, and one of them, presumably the leader, hailed my comm.

I reopened my comm frequency, "Oh, now what?"

"On the orders of General Bryce, we are permitted to use any force necessary to take you into custody. And if we are unable, then we will shoot to kill, Decepticon." The pilot announced, as if relishing the challenge.

"Stop." I commanded in the most authoritative tone I could muster, spinning around so my nose cone pointed at the leading jet. I noticed with a sinking feeling that each of them, and there were five, each easily larger than me. But to my surprise, they did. I took an intake, "This is all one rather large misunderstanding."

"Explain." The same pilot's voice ordered. "I'll give you one minute, and if we don't believe you, we will start shooting." I sighed, watching the seconds slowly tick down on my internal clock. Fifty-nine… fifty-eight…

I swallowed my ego and choked quite a bit, "I was Megatron's esteemed first lieutenant in the Decepticon ranks—you would know him as their leader. But my former master took me for granted," I permitted an edge of hurt and vengefulness to enter my tone, milking it for all it was worth. Forty-seven seconds left. "He punished me severely whenever I 'slipped up,' when it usually was his own twisted delusions getting in the way of things. We never had privacy; when he 'disciplined' me," my tone turned bitter, "he made the crew watch, the monster enjoyed making an example." I took another intake and collected my thoughts. Thirty-nine. "Having had enough, I deserted the cause, willfully surrendering my post to the next doomed mech to step up." Thirty. "And eventually, Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots, found me. I was starving, weak, flightless, but he and the other Autobots nursed me back to health, and in the meantime aided me in correcting the error of my ways. I decided to join the Autobot collective, to bolster their meager numbers and work to end Megatron's tyranny."

I was satisfied, my little speech was a mixture of truths and white lies sprinkled throughout, in hopes of playing on their sympathies even more than I would have gotten with just the truth. Now was time to see if it had paid off. Four… three… two… one. I hadn't realized I was holding my intakes until the same pilot spoke up.

"You go by Starscream." He affirmed.

His question took me off-guard, "I do."

"And you said you were Megatron's second-in-command?"

"In the months preceding my flight," the bitterness reentered my tone and was even sharper than before, "he had stripped me of my rank in all but title, and then proceeded to execute an attempt on my f–life."

As the lead pilot seemed to mull it over, another spoke up. "As Decepticons, would you all—current or former—not have dishonesty down to an art form?"

A smirk tugged at the corners of my hidden mouth plates, "One would certainly think so. However, because you described it as an 'art form'… Megatron can fill canvases with his eloquent speech. As for myself, well, I tried, but struggled to even pick up the brush." The smirk turned into a grin. _Oh, if they only knew._

A few of the pilots appeared to believe me, I could tell their grips around the controls had relaxed by how a couple of the planes listed to the side a couple degrees.

The leader did not, however. "What if that itself is a lie?"

"You are right; you don't know." I agreed, catching him by surprise. "But have I any reason to deceive you? After all, to achieve my aims means to sway you to my side. Speaking of sides," I allowed the smirk to enter my tone, "just ask Optimus, or any of the other Autobots. They won't disappoint."

"A moment," The lead pilot requested. "If you're thinking of trying anything, know we're still watching."

"Be my guest." I shut off the comm with a burst of static. The nerve of these humans! I almost just jetted off in the other direction, and they wouldn't be able to follow. They would be far too busy digging themselves out of my dust. But something kept me hovering there, awaiting their answer. _Primus, it seems those few months of being stuck with the Autobots is beginning to show… but then again, is that such a bad thing?_

After several minutes of conversing on a private frequency, the pilots broke apart from their cluster and trained their vessels' large nose cones on me once again.

"General Bryce voiced his own concerns–"

"That's why it took so long." I muttered.

The leader ignored me, "However, we now have a standing order to detain you until the general can confirm that you are on our side. It shouldn't be a problem, unless you of course are not."

"This is ridiculous!" I scoffed. "Do you even think you could hold me, much less transport?"

" _Escort_ ," he corrected, "and it is not my place to tell you what we are or are not capable of."

For a moment I just hovered there in the air, dumbfounded. "If General Bryce seemed skeptical, as you said before," my tone dipped into a growl, "why does he not just call up Agent Fowler and prove that I am right?"

"Special Agent William Fowler is unavailable at present, and the General has matters to attend to other than running an errand out to the Autobot base to ask Optimus Prime about you." The third pilot said.

A thought suddenly struck me. "The Autobot base, say?" I purred, tendrils of confidence warming my chest plate. "Are any of you still firmly attached to the thought that I am still a Decepticon?"

Another pilot piped up this time, "You tell me. After all, we have been having a conversation with a robot that looks like an F-16 who is supposedly from a distant planet. Anything is possible."

"Would anyone else care to object?"

No one objected.

"Were I still a loyal Decepticon," I drew myself level with the dubious pilot's craft, "and had I known the location of the Autobot base, I would have called in an airstrike within the minute I learned of it. And I would be leading the charge."

"That is precisely why–" the leader began to say, but I cut him off.

"Indeed it is, but not in the way you are suggesting." I began to circle slowly around the lead jet. "For the past three months, I have known the location of the Autobot base. _My_ base. So go ask any of my fellow Autobots and see if they are still in one piece. On that note, I believe we are done here." I cut the comm link and whirled around, flying off high above Seattle.

Suddenly the familiar ping of bullets resumed its pathetic assault on my chassis. "You have got to be kidding me." I snarled at myself in frustration, "What use is edging one's speech with eloquent words when they cannot cut through thick human skulls?"

I figured it wouldn't take much for them to begin to use lethal force, and I had no idea what kinds of weapons they were packing on those jets other than standard, useless human automatics. I didn't want to find out.

"Ratchet, I require a ground bridge!" I barked into a comm. "Ratchet, frag, answer me you–" suddenly twin heat seeking missiles spiraled at my tail wings. I gasped, there was no way I could lose them, besides force them to crash into a human building. And the city was too far below me to reach one in time. It was just my luck that they were close enough that I would never be able to outmaneuver them… at least by standard means.

So I did what jets in combat should never do. I spun around and flew _at_ the missiles, using their proximity to my advantage. They were so close to me that their sensors didn't have enough time to react as I shot through the narrow gap between them. An explosion behind me announced my victory. I laughed in triumph, but the grin was wiped off my faceplates as I saw the five jets banking around back towards me, guns blazing. Four of which still had a pair of missiles.

I fired both of mine at them, and they both somehow managed to miss. Curse my rotten luck. They exploded in the air above a jet, buffeting it downwards. The others fanned out, two flanking me on each side while the one I had missed approached my front. The four jets on my sides simultaneously readied their missiles beneath the unrelenting, mildly annoying spray of gunfire pinging off my fuselage and wings.

"Ratchet!" I barked into the comm again. This time, he answered.

"Starscream?" He asked in surprise.

"Who else?" I snapped, weaving out of the way of a jet. Its engine roared in my audials as it zoomed passed me.

"I was expecting to hear from you sooner. What are you– _where are you_?!"

"General Bryce was eager for a fight; he sent a few manned jets out to terminate me! And as for where, I am somewhere above Seattle. By Primus, send a fragging bridge already!"

"I am triangulating your coordinates. However, it would be beneficial if you would slow down…"

"Yes, if I would like to cease my function!" I snapped at him.

"At least I'm not trying to ground bridge you onto a moving train," he grumbled in reply.

I would have asked about what he was referring to had I not been desperately trying to dodge even more heat seekers that the jets had launched.

"Hurry up–AHH!" I yelped in surprise as one of the pilots slammed their craft into my side. I entered a dizzying tailspin and blasted my thruster to escape it, stabilizing myself with my ailerons. I found myself rocketing at a skyscraper. Seven's bad luck apparently had rubbed off on me. I shot around the side of it with plenty of space to spare. Little white flashes of light peppered me from the ground–I realized it was those pesky humans' satellite phones taking pictures. As long as I wasn't in my bot mode, I couldn't care less… "Where is that bridge?" I swung into a narrow gap between a pair of skyscrapers, just as a vortex materialized in front of me.

* * *

I transformed and landed gracefully on my pedes in the main atrium of our base, skidding to a stop.

"Cool moves, Mr. Heels!" Miko flashed me a grin. "I bet you could really cut a rug!"

I stood up straighter and gave her a look, dusting off my arms. "Call me that again and–"

"Hello to you too." Ratchet said, pulling the lever that closed the bridge.

"How was your flight?" Arcee asked.

"Pleasant, until I was nearly shot out of the sky." I grumbled. Unfortunately for me, dear Agent Fowler was nowhere in sight. I would have liked someone with direct connections to General Bryce to vent on.

"About that," Oliver jumped in, "did they think you were still a 'Con?"

"Yes and no."

"I am sure we can all talk about this in the morning over a fresh cube of energon." Optimus said with an air of finality. "As for now, children, it is late. I'm sure your families will be expecting you to be home soon."

"No sense in waiting, here's the door." Ratchet gestured bluntly at a new ground bridge.

"Who for?" Jack asked.

"The two of them." Ratchet jerked his helm at Oliver and Will, the latter of which had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since I returned.

Seven waved them off with a yawn, "Go on. I know, I know, you want to leave so badly, but we all will see you again in the morning." I hadn't even noticed my double, leaning on the wall in a shadowy section of the room, watching all of us through bleary optics.

"Is something wrong?" I asked my clone after the two humans had left, afraid that the virus had somehow had infected him as well.

"It's been a long day." He yawned again, wings fluttering tiredly.

"You know, Ratch, it isn't _that_ late…" Miko trailed off, locking eyes with Bulkhead.

"Nuh-uh, Miko. No offroading tonight."

"But–"

The Wrecker transformed, flashing his headlights at her. "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

"Aww!" the girl groaned loudly, and made a big show of climbing into the passenger seat.

"No need, Bulkhead, I can bridge her home instantly." Ratchet suggested, already inputting coordinates.

"Thanks, doc, but I've been cooped up in base all day." And on that note, the green mech drove out, revving his engine. I smirked lightly, perhaps they would be doing some off-roading without Ratchet's optics on them.

"My name is not doc!" He protested, but the brute was already long gone.

[Let's go, Raf.] Bumblebee chirped, transforming. Arcee followed suit, and together with their humans, they left the base.

"Something on the processor, Optimus?" Ratchet asked, looking to the red mech. The Autobot leader had been unusually silent, like Will.

"He's pulling a Soundwave." Seven offered.

Optimus looked at me, his optics piercing through my spark chamber. "I have been thinking about Starscream's condition."

"You haven't uncovered anything new, have you?" Seven wondered.

"No. But I am puzzled by the lack of symptoms–"

"Hold that thought." I interjected, a new thought pushing towards the front of my processor. "What if there is one that I've been overlooking…"

Now I had Ratchet's attention too. "Such as?"

I met the medic's optics, "Well, there was one dizzy spell earlier today in the forest, which I blamed on energon loss at the time, but now I'm not so sure…" my brow furrowed, "… and this—I don't know what to call it— _tingling_ sensation every once in awhile."

Seven rolled his optics and pretended to swoon.

"What is your malfunction?!" I snapped at him.

"That was harsh." Seven added, punctuating it with a tired sigh.

"Go get some rest." Ratchet ordered. The silver mech shrugged, wings bobbing over his shoulders, and proceeded to stroll off into the depths of our base.

"Thanks for caring," I hissed at my double.

He glanced back with a smirk so subtle it might have been my imagination, "It's in our nature, after all."

I couldn't argue.

"Have you noticed any other symptoms?" Optimus queried once my clone had made his exit.

"There never is an end to this, is there?" I grumbled beneath my vocalizer. "No, none other than that."

Ratchet was wrapped up in his own thoughts for a moment before speaking again, "Are you absolutely certain that you haven't noticed any others?"

My brow creased, "No, wh–wait. I remember now… something I had failed to notice previously." I paused, trying to comb through the tangle of my own thoughts. But to them I probably just looked confused, which wasn't terribly far from the truth either. "The underside of my chest plate has been heating up sometimes… it seems like every time after I transform."

"Would this include your blasters?" Optimus wondered, taking a seat on the berth next to me a respectable distance away.

"As far as I know, it is only when I go from bot into jet or vice versa."

Ratchet frowned at his scanner, "Oh, that isn't good." The Prime and I looked at him expectantly. Anxiety tore away at my insides. "It appears that the virus is spreading out from your T-Cog… and by the look of it, towards your processor."

Optimus turned to me, setting a servo on my shoulder. This time, I didn't shrug it off. "Starscream, for the moment I think it is best that you do not transform, lest it hasten the process."

"Until we can find a cure." Ratchet added, trying to sound upbeat.

"Until? UNTIL?!" I stood up so abruptly that I accidentally jerked the Prime forwards. "'IF' is better suited! You talk the talk, _doctor_ ," I got right up in his faceplates and jabbed a talon at his chest so hard that I might have scratched the paint, "but you don't know any more than the rest of us as for what it is! You don't even know if it will turn out to be fatal, where it came from, or anything that could–"

"Starscream," Optimus began gently, "he does know." That hit me like a blaster shot between the optics. "We did not wish to frighten you before, but withholding information now will do more harm than good."

"Then…?" I sank back down onto the berth.

Ratchet answered this time, "I still do not yet know what it is, but–well," he seemed to struggle for words, "unchecked, it will eventually extinguish your spark. That alone is clear." I let that sink in.

"How ironic, considering all these years we have been fighting and terminating each other," I said quietly, gazing at my servos that felt like they were coated in Cliffjumper's energon. "I always had thought that I would die at the servos of my enemies," I locked optics with Optimus, "but I suppose it is better to go out among allies."

Optimus smiled at me, "I could have not said it better, and am honored that you call me a friend."

"Well, maybe not yet–"

"Oh please, Starscream. Don't ruin the moment." Ratchet groaned.

The smile had vanished from Optimus' faceplates, "Starscream, there is something Ratchet has to say as well."

I cast a sideways glance at the medic, "And you say that I ruined it."

Ratchet rolled his optics in exasperation, "Don't be selling yourself for spare parts just yet. Now think, who had your T-Cog before you retrieved it?"

"I'm not sure where this is going, but I shall humor you, doctor." I grumbled, thinking this was a waste of time. "Silas, the monster."

"Yes, and what is MECH's goal?"

"You aren't saying–"

"I am."

My helm whirled with questions and revelations. "You think that they engineered a virus and implanted it in my T-Cog."

"We do." Optimus answered.

It was like I'd suddenly been spun around and around, then punched in the faceplates, and spun some more. Before I knew it, vertigo had me doubled over, purging onto the floor. _Now_ I felt ill.

"I–I had a dream back in the _Harbinger_ ," I rasped, gulping down air. "I thought I was half-crazed at the time, but now…" I heaved onto the floor again, shaking.

"What was it?" Optimus asked. I went over and sat down beside the Prime, leaning against him for support. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, but rested his arm around my shoulder plates. I didn't resist.

My wings drooped, "I was back at the Cybertron War Academy, and went to the general's office. Except… I was there—I mean, a duplicate of myself."

"Seven?" Ratchet asked, beginning to clean up the floor with an air of disgust he couldn't quite hide.

"No, he claimed to be a future version of myself, come to warn me of some event that had yet to come."

"Which was…?" Optimus pried gently, tilting my chin up so I was forced to meet his azure optics, a stark contrast to my own.

"I'm not sure. I woke up, which cut him off. However, he told me to not retrieve my T-Cog from Silas, no matter what."

Ratchet huffed, "That's absurd, why would he do that? It was a dream, nothing more!"

Exasperated, I growled, "Perhaps because he somehow _knew_ that MECH had inserted a virus into my T-Cog!"

"That is hardly possible!" The medic exclaimed.

"Then, doctor, enlighten me as to why he mentioned Seven prior to my clone's very existence!"

The medic blinked, "He did?"

Optimus hummed in thought, "What else did he speak of?"

"He…" I fought to remember, "he said that he was me, just from a year in the future, which would equate to eight months from now, if my math is correct."

Ratchet let out a resigned sigh, "Starscream, I think you may not know what you are saying–"

"I am perfectly coherent, doctor!" I snapped. "I may be ailing now, but I wasn't then!"

"You said you thought it was crazy at the time," he reminded bluntly.

"What was I supposed to think?!" I retorted defensively.

"Starscream," Optimus interjected calmly, pulling me gently so I looked at him, "why did you not tell us earlier?"

I wilted beneath his gaze. "I didn't think of it much…"

Ratchet cleared his vocalizer, "For what purpose would MECH plant a virus in your T-Cog?"

I stood and began to pace back and forth, tapping my chin, "What MECH wants more than anything, from what I had gathered in the meager stint I worked alongside them, is a living Cybertronian to perform their twisted scientific experiments on."

"And why not use the one that they have gotten their hands on before?" Ratchet added. "If they already have a sense of what makes you tick…"

"So," I sighed, "in doing this, those monsters left me with two options." Optimus nodded in understanding, knowing what I was going to say before I had uttered it. But I said it anyway. "I either let it take its course here, because I am sure that they did their best to make it incurable, or hand myself over to them."

"For whatever malignant things they would inflict on you, after they had ridded your chassis of the virus." Optimus finished gravely. "Rest assured, we are not going to turn you over to them, at any cost."

My voice grew steely and quiet, the opposite of what I expected, "What if that cost means my spark?"

"It will not come to that." Ratchet said sternly, as if challenging the universe.

I stalked off into the depths of the base the same way Seven had went, furious with MECH, with the other Autobots for being unable to do anything other than to offer their condolences, and at myself for not picking up on it sooner…

"He took that well," Ratchet said to the Prime in hushed, slightly sarcastic tones that he thought my audials wouldn't pick up.

I felt Optimus' optics drilling into my back as I walked away, "I think he had already guessed, old friend."


	5. 5 - Tunnel Vision

V - Tunnel Vision

White. The entire world was comprised of an endlessly pure, harsh, white light. I blinked, and the blinding whiteness was replaced by a more comforting black, if only for a millisecond.

"That's it, follow the light." Ratchet's voice encouraged from somewhere behind it, and the focal point of the light shifted slightly to the left. I let my optics follow it. Then to the right. Up. Down. The medic switched the blinding flashlight off, causing an afterimage to burn into my processor.

"And what exactly was the point of that, again?" I grimaced, rubbing my optics while trying and failing to properly glare up at him. "Besides inflicting unnecessary pain?"

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen, Screamy." Bulkhead groaned with a smirk.

Ratchet sighed, "You don't want me to turn this back on again, do you?"

I made the mistake of letting my servos fall to my sides and he blasted me with it.

"Augh! He's mad with power!" I yelped, covering my optics and my wings flattened against my back. The medic chuckled, switching it off.

"You're utterly histrionic," Arcee rolled her optics.

Bumblebee chirped, looking to the medic, [Hey Ratch, he asked you a question.]

"Right, right. I shall tell you once more, since you evidently were not listening the first time: this was necessary because the virus is crawling up towards your processor, if, or when it nears its destination, your optics may be the first systems to be affected."

"Fantastic."

"Do not despair, Starscream, Ratchet is still working hard at finding a cure." Optimus placated.

"But is he really any closer?" Seven countered.

"Not. Helping." I growled at him. My clone took the ever-so subtle hint and wisely clamped his mouth shut.

"C'mon Scream, we just found it yesterday. Cut yourself some slack!" Miko tried to placate. It took all of my willpower to not shout in her face. _And I've had it for three months!_

Optimus gently pushed Ratchet's arm down, and the medic set the flashlight aside. "I can assure you, we will not surrender you to MECH–"

"Even if it means my termination? You've said this before, and I can see it in your optics." I accused quietly, glaring at the Prime. No one spoke for a moment, and Optimus swept his gaze over the room so he wouldn't have to meet mine. I wasn't even sure myself what he would find there if he did. Anger? Hurt? Anguish? Anxiety? Certainly not something I would want to see myself.

"If it comes to that, we will be forced to involve Silas," he announced with the air of finality someone might have after delivering a eulogy.

"And if a deal cannot be made and there is no hope of a cure…" Seven transformed out a blaster, tapping it against his thigh. The three humans made the connection fast, looking between it and me with wide eyes.

"I will tie that into a knot." I threatened as he transformed it away, but secretly agreed with him. Why suffer when there was an easier option?

I saw Optimus staring at me with a scrutinizing optic. I tried to push all my emotions down, but he still had been able to glean my thoughts. His uncharacteristically defeated expression was evidence enough.

"We still have plenty of time left before…" Ratchet caught himself, "before we're done, so I will put it to valuable use in attempts to find a cure. Starscream, sit." He said, and pointed to the berth.

"What for?" I huffed, but complied.

"I want to check the integrity of your patch." He stated. I had forgotten about the wound on my side and watched as the medic peeled it off. To his surprise, there was only a small bit of damage remaining, nothing worse than a few scratches and scuff marks.

"You heal fast," he remarked, sounding mildly impressed, though I might have imagined it.

I huffed, waving him away. "I know that, it's one reason Megatron loved to use me as a punching bag; he could 'discipline' me one day and I would be usually fit for duty the next. Though I'm not sure how much was Knock Out's doing…"

"Hate to break up the pity party," Arcee said, her tone clearly saying the opposite, "but we still need to know if you're contagious."

"Duh, isn't that the first thing you were supposed to ask?" Miko stated, planting her hands on her hips.

"We could all have been infected!" Bulkhead exclaimed, as if he had just realized. Seven rolled his optics, but beneath the false bravado, I saw he was trembling. So that was what I was now: an object to be feared, like a bomb, because in the act of destroying itself it would also destroy others.

"You already have asked!" Ratchet exclaimed, only being met with expectant looks. "No, it isn't contagious." A few relieved sighs followed his statement. I sagged against the wall, happy I wasn't a bomb after all. But that didn't mean my timer wasn't already ticking down.

"I don't think I would even wish this upon you, Arcee." I tried to smirk but it came out as more of a forced grimace, which then quickly fell into a frown. My optics started to feel wet and I looked away, mentally berating myself for weakness.

Suddenly a sharp, blaring alarm rang out across the base and I jumped.

"The proximity sensor?" Seven wondered anxiously, covering his audials.

"Negative." Ratchet shut off the noise, his fingers flying over the console at speeds that could rival Soundwave. "Iacon homing beacons!"

"The 'Con's picked up another one, eh?" Bulkhead bashed his fists together.

"Four 'ones,' actually." Ratchet pointed to the screen.

"We must not let more relics fall into the servos of the Decepticons, for whatever sinister use they would put them to." Optimus said firmly.

"Uh, guys," Raf pointed up at the first location, "that's Manhattan."

"What would a relic from Cybertron be doing in the Big Apple?" Miko asked, skepticism evident in her tone as she looked to Ratchet.

"The Iacon relics landed on Earth eons ago," Ratchet said gravely while he watched the screen, "long before the city was built atop it."

"Which means if the 'Cons want this one, they may have to move some buildings out of the way." Jack's hands balled into fists.

"You all know that I cannot condone any human casualties." Optimus reminded us.

"Yes, yes, we know." Seven drawled, giving me a look.

"What about the subway system?" Miko suggested. "The 'Cons might not have to blow up some buildings to get what they want if it's in a tunnel."

"Since the human population no longer seems to be directly threatened, maintaining our disguise will be necessary." Optimus commanded. "Arcee, Bumblebee, you are the best choices to navigate through such a densely populated area." The femme squared her shoulders and Bumblebee nodded confidently.

"Sev, what gives? I thought you'd totally jump at the chance to visit the big city!" Miko exclaimed.

"I think I've lost my taste for flying around New York." My clone replied haughtily.

I cocked my helm, "And is the same true of Los Angeles?"

He glared at me. "How was Seattle?"

I gave him a look.

"Hey, Optimus?" Jack asked, getting the Prime's attention. "New York has over eight million people; the odds of being spotted by just one of 'em are pretty high. Even if they are headed underground."

"Where are you going with this?" Arcee asked, meeting his eyes.

"You're going to need a human who can run interference if your cover gets blown."

Miko piped up, "Well, I've actually been in subway stations! I grew up in a major metropolis, unlike Mr. I've-Never-Been-Outside-Jasper-Nevada here." She crossed her arms, a smug smirk on her face.

"I have been to Cybertron." Jack reminded her.

"Cybertron doesn't have subways!" She shot back. "Does it?" she looked to the 'Bots, suddenly unsure.

"Agent Fowler remains our best option." Optimus stated, ignoring her.

Ratchet pulled up his profile on the main screen, "That may be, Optimus, but he remains unavailable." A voice message rang out and Ratchet shut it off, annoyed.

"Do you always talk this much before doing something?" I groused.

Optimus ignored me as well, "Very well. Miko and Jack will accompany Arcee and Bumblebee."

"Sweet!" The girl exclaimed, hopping down the stairs three at a time.

I snarled to myself in frustration, "What about–"

"You aren't dying right now, by the looks of it." Arcee shot at me. "C'mon, Bee, let's roll."

"You have got to be kidding me." I grumbled after they disappeared through the ground bridge.

Optimus looked at me sadly, "I am afraid we are not."

He then looked to the green mech, who nodded, "Time to kick some 'Con tailpipe!"

Rafael changed the coordinates to the next location: a volcanic island somewhere deep within the Pacific, and Ratchet opened the bridge.

"Be on your guard, Bulkhead." The Wrecker charged through the bridge and it closed behind him. "Rafael, lock on to the remaining coordinates. I will embark for the Antarctic." Raf opened the bridge from his laptop, and Optimus then turned to Ratchet. "As for you, old friend, I would prefer that you have company on your mission."

"No one is left except Seven and Starscream, and…" the medic trailed off, glancing at me.

"Not it." Seven crossed his arms defiantly. "I am only going to be backup, nothing more." I shrugged.

"I was considering the only remaining Autobot alternative on this planet, other than them." Optimus replied.

"But–you can't be serious!" Ratchet exclaimed, looking less than enthused. "Wheeljack is insubordinate, a ruffian! And besides, he's Bulkhead's partner."

"Your expertise is scientific." Optimus reminded him. "But Wheeljack is a highly capable warrior. You would be wise, old friend, to welcome the temporary alliance."

Ratchet groaned, but begrudgingly accepted the offer as the Prime walked through the bridge.

But Optimus stopped partway, looking back at me, "I would, however, appreciate the company of a certain Seeker."

"He is not cleared for duty!" Ratchet protested.

"Is it too much to ask that you treat me like I am here?" I folded my arms across my chest plate indignantly.

"Uh, my apologies." The medic sounded sincere but said it in an awkward tone, as if not used to apologizing to anyone. He faced Optimus, "But he is not going. Not while Seven can."

"In New York, they may be subjected to a potential chase scenario. I cannot allow Starscream to unwittingly speed along the progress of the virus while we are open to other options."

"And what will bringing him to the Antarctic do about that?" Ratchet looked triumphant now, optics glittering.

"Whereas there most likely already are Decepticons at the location," the Prime stated, "I believe Starscream would be safer with me."

I frowned at them, "Do I not have a say in this?" The three of them, including my clone, looked expectantly at me. "I want to get out of this base!"

"But Seattle–"

"Shut it, Seven." my clone looked hurt, but didn't press it any further. "If circumstances are as bleak as they appear to be, then I would like to spend what time I have remaining on this rock of a planet above it, not under."

"Antarctica is pretty cold, you're not exactly going to be basking in the sun." Raf pointed out.

"As long as it is outside, I could care less."

"No one said you were going." Ratchet reminded me.

Optimus cleared his throat, "I believe I did. I see no harm in allowing Starscream to accompany me, so long as he does not transform."

"Well…" The medic trailed off, but I knew the battle had been won.

Optimus let me walk through the waiting bridge first, then followed.


	6. 6 - Tunnel Vision II

VI - Tunnel Vision II

A blue motorcycle and yellow muscle car with black stripes rolled out of a ground bridge and into an unassuming New York alleyway. The bridge vanished behind them. Jack tried to act casual, admiring the buildings as they drove out onto a busier street. One needn't look very hard to tell he was intimidated by their size. A police siren rang out in the distance, growing fainter with each passing second.

"Of course, it's no Cybertron." Miko quipped, poking her head out of Bumblebee's window.

"Alright, base, how do we get underground?" Arcee asked, flashing a mirror so the light hit Jack's eye, swiftly getting his attention.

He batted at it, "Well, we can't just jump the turnstiles and hope no one notices."

They turned onto another street and were suddenly met with barriers blocking off an open pit construction site, leading straight into a subway tunnel.

"Here's our ticket in." Arcee said, revving her engine enthusiastically.

* * *

The Vehicon operating the mining drill put the thing in reverse as its business end slowly stopped spinning. The dying sound echoed eerily through the subway tunnels. The dim, flickering lights overhead only added to the effect.

"Could we please pick up the pace?" Knock Out snapped at the other drones as they shambled into the newly dug hole in the wall. "The humidity down here is threatening to corrode my undercarriage!"

The Insecticon towering up behind him snarled at him in the guttural tones of its species.

The red mech spun around, "Must you hover?"

It snarled quietly in response and gave no indication of stepping back.

A safe distance behind the squabbling Decepticons, Arcee, Bumblebee, Jack, and Miko poked their heads and helms out from behind the wall of an intersection. The yellow scout ushered the children back, and they transformed out their blasters. Fortunately, the noise from the drill masked the sound from their transformation sequences, and the pair began to creep forwards. The humans followed behind them, one of them eager to see action, the other not wanting to be left behind.

The drones stood in the way of Knock Out's vision so he shoved one aside, "Well let me see it already!"

The unassuming container was wedged halfway in a broken section of concrete, but the lid faced up. Knock Out smirked, twirling his shock prod.

"Lock and load." Arcee whispered to Bumblebee, watching the scene from just on the edge of the corner.

What they didn't notice was the Insecticon prowling up on the ceiling behind them, looking as though it held no regard for the laws of physics. It jumped at them, but they heard and leapt out of the way. Bumblebee was already on his pedes, firing shots at it. Arcee rolled and jumped to hers as well, mirroring the scout. The Insecticon shot a bolt of red plasma at the tracks and it exploded at the yellow mech's pedes, launching him into the air. He landed next to Arcee, skidding a little before regaining his footing and resuming his assault. The Insecticon was unfazed by their attack, firing another blast of plasma at them. This time they both went flying.

Knock Out rushed out of the hole the drill had dug at the sound of the commotion, watching the Autobots land and fire furiously at their assailant. The three drones rushed out behind him, blasters already raised.

"Stop! What are you doing?" He barked at the Insecticon. Everyone, even the Autobots stopped in surprise.

"Excuse me?" Arcee said, lowering her blasters a fraction.

Knock Out tapped his shock prod's tip against his pede, which would have been excruciating had it been active. "What have you done with tall and screechy? You know, he did mention that he had been… consorting with you all a few times during his last visit."

Arcee trained her blasters on him. "Call off the bug and then we'll play nice."

The Insecticon took a few steps back, still hissing for a fight. The humans, still undetected, watched from the corner with wide eyes.

Arcee kept her blasters out, "What do you want with this relic?"

"I asked you a question first." He crossed his arms matter-of-factly. "Have you done anything to him?"

"Nothing physical, which is more than I can say for you if you don't answer me." She snapped.

"I'd be able to put the relic to use if I knew what it was before you rudely interrupted our little excavation." Knock Out replied cooly. He made to go and open the relic's container, but Arcee and Bumblebee both jerked their blasters.

"Don't even think about it!" She snapped.

"Too late."

"Why do you care about Starscream?"

"I am his physician, meaning he is my business."

[Not anymore.] Bumblebee buzzed.

"Starscream's our problem now," Arcee agreed. "Like we needed more." She grumbled.

The red mech twirled his shock prod, warning them not to get closer. "Yes, when I replaced his wings and T-Cog, he mentioned that he was having playdates with your party lately."

"More like sleepovers."

"So it's true then, isn't it?" Knock Out didn't mean it as a question.

"If you're saying that he would rather team up with Ratchet than you, yes." Arcee smirked.

The medic bit back a retort, "It seems that you Autobots are indebted to me, then." He smirked and continued before Arcee could interject, "Megatron would have terminated Starscream, then me for helping him if he had caught us. And out of the goodness of my spark, I risked my beautiful pa–"

"Save it." The femme growled, charging up her blasters.

"Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn't." The drones behind Knock Out mimicked her, and he stabbed his shock prod into the ground.

"Since you are indebted to me, and I am in a good mood, I'll let you pick which you lose," he smirked, twirling the prod at them, "the relic or your sparks."

"Playing nice doesn't mean I have to play by the rules." Arcee fired her blasters and Bumblebee joined in. They felled the trio of drones before the Insecticon lunged at them. Arcee ducked, but Bumblebee was less fortunate. The Insecticon slammed into him, pinning him to the wall.

"Bee!" She cried out, transforming out her blades. She sprang on top of the Insecticon, just inside of its reach which distracted it long enough for the yellow scout to slip out of its grasp.

Bumblebee fell to the ground as she leapt off the the back of the Insecticon. She moved to help him but he got to his pedes instantly, unscathed by the look of it.

Then Knock Out slammed his circular saw into Arcee's back and she went flying. He brought his saw down towards her helm and she fell backwards. It missed by inches. She darted around behind him and a well-placed kick sent him sprawling on top of one of the drone's chassis.

The femme ran through the hole in the wall after making sure the bad doctor wasn't getting up and tugged fiercely on the container, but it wouldn't budge.

Meanwhile, Bumblebee was shooting bolts of blue plasma at the Insecticon while doing his best to keep himself between it and the two children. The pair of humans watched the scene with excitement and horror. The Insecticon crawled towards the scout on the concrete ceiling of the tunnel, heedless of his blaster fire. The yellow mech dodged a would-be lethal swipe to his helm from its vicious claws, taking a heavy punch to his chest plate that sent him flying into the concrete wall so hard that he cracked it.

On the other side of the tunnel, Arcee's outstretched fingers ghosted the lid of the container, only seconds away from opening it. She suddenly collapsed to the ground, blue webs of electricity coursing through her frame.

"Shock and Drop." Knock Out purred, twirling the prod before shutting it off.

The Insecticon dragged Bumblebee's limp chassis over and tossed him on top of Arcee. Neither moved in protest.

"Now, shall we see precisely what you are?" Knock Out stepped over them and unscrewed the lid with a flick of his wrist. He pulled out a device that looked like an alien watch turned torture device. "And what you do?" He smirked malevolently and walked towards Bumblebee, "And what better way to learn your power then to conduct an on-site experiment?" He was just reaching down to fasten it to Bumblebee's wrist when a ground bridge opened behind him. The two Decepticons both failed to notice it.

Seven charged out of it and landed a swift punch on the back of the red medic's helm. He crumpled on top of Bumblebee. The scout's optics flickered and powered on. Seven helped the yellow mech shove the red one off him and Bumblebee jumped to his pedes, already firing at the Insecticon once again.

When Seven looked back at her, Arcee was already standing, but so was Knock Out.

"Ah, Starscream, here to join the fun?" The medic purred, transforming out a drill.

"Joke's on you." Seven transformed out a blaster, shooting at Knock Out.

He sprang backwards, dodging the bolt of red plasma, "Seven, is it?" He smirked, "What have you done to your wings! Have you no sense of style?" Miko grinned somewhere far behind them, her eyes falling on the red stripes.

The Insecticon shoved Knock Out out of the way as if saying: _Enough prattle_. It charged at Arcee, but the femme jumped out of its path and did a flip and landing where the medic had stood.

Knock Out smirked at Seven, "It would appear that I am _outnumbered_." He transformed, racing off along the subway tracks in the tunnel. The other two Autobots were preoccupied with ensuring the Insecticon's annihilation, but both managed a glance at Seven.

"If I must," he sighed with false reluctance, but his optics burned with near enthusiasm.

He transformed, the flames from his thruster lighting up a small swath of the tunnel as he rapidly gained on the red sports car.

"Whoa." Miko breathed as he shot past her and Jack's hiding spot, blasting them both with a wave of heat.

Knock Out swerved around a corner, executing a hairpin turn that was impossible for Seven at the speeds the jet was flying. Not to mention the fact that his wings were already almost scraping the sides of the tunnel.

"Bee, go help Seven!" Arcee shouted over the din of clashing metal, firing a last shot that was doomed to miss at the Insecticon before transforming. She revved her engine, using the noise and her headlights to attract the 'Con. It transformed, wings thrumming until they were just a blur and it began pursuit. Bumblebee transformed and sped off in the opposite direction after Seven and Knock Out, determined to retrieve the prize.

Seven's comm unit pinged and he answered it. The scout chirped on the other end, [Got any idea of what the relic is?]

"No," the Seeker panted on the other side of the link, swinging around another corner of the tunnel to gain on the red Decepticon. "But if they want it this badly, I'm sure it isn't anything you–we are going to like." Bumblebee whirled in agreement, saying that was the reason they would have to try harder than ever to gain possession of it.

* * *

"Scrap." Arcee spun around and transformed, having reached a dead end in the tunnel.

The Insecticon charged at her but she sprang up above it, nearly colliding with the ceiling. She landed lightly, the third rail between her pedes. The femme smirked as an idea formed inside her helm and jumped away from the rail.

"Knock Out's shock prod isn't the only thing down here that can zap a bot." She said to herself quietly so the Insecticon wouldn't hear as it circled back over towards her. She positioned herself against the wall, "Come to Mama."

The Insecticon stalked towards her, still in bug mode. Its pointy pedes missed the third rail by inches. It transformed and charged as Arcee darted away. Not a second later, the concrete wall she formerly stood in front of was in considerably more pain than she was.

Arcee slashed at the Insecticon and danced out of its reach. It charged at her and she transformed her blasters out again, firing rapid successions of shots. She hit a soft spot and it collapsed to the ground, plowing through the third rail. It shrieked as blue wires of electricity crackled through its frame, eventually falling silent.

"Shock and Drop." She transformed her blasters away and drove off in search of the others.

* * *

"Seven, Megatron doesn't know about your very existence, and I would imagine that you intend to keep it that way, hm?" Knock Out growled lowly and gunned his engine, swerving over the subway tracks.

"I also imagine that Megatron would express his deep disapproval if he ever found out the teensy fact that you had aided Starscream and I in the past."

"What he doesn't know–"

"Can't hurt _you_?" Seven finished smugly, toying with the car. He could have overtaken him in seconds, but where was the fun in that?

"Well, yes," he finished lamely. "As for you…" he transformed, the relic in one servo, shock prod in the other. He thrust upwards with the latter and it connected with the jet's fuselage. Seven fell out of the air and transformed, landing in a shower of sparks as blue electricity arced through his chassis.

Bumblebee transformed and leapt over the red mech, "Watch the paint!" and snatched the relic out of his grasp all in a fluid motion. He landed in front of the downed Seeker, the relic secured over his wrist while his blasters charged up.

Knock Out stared at him as if he were a ghost, dumbfounded, then snarled. "You–you… Megatron will terminate me!"

[Like that's my problem.] The scout shot back, scooping an unconscious Seven up.

The medic lunged forward with his shock prod. The yellow mech tried to sidestep, but his grip on Seven was too awkward, and there simply wasn't enough time. He flinched backwards, awaiting the blow and shock that never came. Seven slipped out of his arms. Knock Out stumbled right through him, not expecting the sudden turn of events either.

He gasped, optics shifting to the now-glowing device attached to the scout's wrist. "A-a phase shifter!?"

Bumblebee chirped in surprise, examining the shiny new contraption on his wrist in awe. He gave its center a twist to shut it off, then punched Knock Out in the faceplates. The red mech reeled backwards and fell into his car mode, driving off.

The scout shifted his attention back to Seven as Knock Out spun back around. The medic had every intention to ram the yellow Autobot with as much force as he could muster.

"Finish protector, here I come!" He gunned his engine, launching into the air. The scout, sensing the danger, fell to the ground.

Then Arcee drove in from behind an intersection not too far ahead, and Seven slowly got to his pedes, groaning quietly and clutching his helm. Seeing this, the medic whipped around again, tires squealing, and drove straight through Bumblebee.

"Eat my exhaust!" He shouted, swerving to avoid blaster shots that were behind schedule. Arcee transformed and opened fire, each shot missing his rear fenders by feet. He swerved around a corner and out of sight.

"Scrap." The femme sighed, transforming her blasters away. Seven made to transform again after him, but Bumblebee put a servo against his chest plate.

Arcee voiced the yellow mech's thoughts for him, "We got what we need; chasing him down now is pointless."

"Get your servos off me!" Seven snapped, pushing him away and stalking over to the intersection Knock Out had vanished behind.

The Seeker watched his taillights vanish into the darkness on the far end of the tunnel, the sound of his engine echoing back and bouncing around until it was unrecognizable. He could uncomfortably feel the other's optics on him.

"First Megatron, then you…" he murmured, watching the darkness.

"One relic down, three to go." Arcee smiled at the humans, "Let's hope the others are having similar luck." Seven could feel a change in the air as the pair of humans emerged from their hiding place, and as the other bots transformed to accommodate their riders.

* * *

"Ratchet, bridge us back." Arcee requested on the other side of a comm.

"Hey!" The agent shouted at the computer, putting the former call on hold. "I'm in the middle of a crisis here!"

"Look who's back." Arcee said, a smirk in her tone. Rafael activated the ground bridge and the femme rolled through with Jack. Bumblebee followed behind her with Miko, and I sulked behind them, dragging my pedes.

"Except Ratchet isn't yet." Raf corrected. Jack dismounted, Miko hopped out, and the bots transformed, walking towards the screens.

Special Agent Fowler turned back to the monitor, re-opening the comm link and grumbling patriotic nonsense under his breath.

"How did it go?" The younger human asked, closing his laptop.

"Fantastic." I said sarcastically, crossing my arms. Bumblebee held up his wrist, showing off the phase shifter.

"Is that the relic? Seems kind of… tiny."

Arcee stuck a servo through Bumblebee, "Good things come in small packages." The three humans smiled up at her. I scuffed one of my pedes against the ground, not wanting to speak or be spoken to for once.

"And I think Sev here feels betrayed." Miko looked at me, but her guess was startlingly accurate. The other humans smiled nervously up at me.

"It's nothing." I said in the best firm tone I could muster.


	7. 7 - Triangulation

VII - Triangulation

"Brr, I despise this planet! If it isn't a scorching desert, it is a frigid wasteland!" I shivered, my heel struts sinking into the deep snow every time I took a new step.

"The current temperatures are not extreme enough to affect our biology." Optimus stated, giving me a wry look. "You'll be fine."

I huffed and threw my servos up into the air, "Fine, yes, but miserable! I should have taken that scooter from the _Harbinger_ , at least it would have sped things up!"

"We are reaching the coordinates." He announced quietly. I took the hint to shut up. At least the snow muffled our pedfalls. We came to a stop, the sheer wall of a blue glacier towering up in front of us with a roughly square shaped hole dug out at ground level, considerably taller than I was. Red flags ringed the outside. As if I needed literal flags, the entirety of this site was red flag enough. "The Decepticons have already acquired the relic."

"Not necessarily," I suggested, cocking my helm knowingly, "I've never known them to plant flags at the site of their victories."

The Prime looked like he was about to reply, but suddenly a blue jet followed by four drones shot past overhead. I didn't need Optimus telling me to be quiet now. We both silently crept back against the wall of ice, transforming out our blasters.

The Decepticons looped back around, clearly having seen the Prime and I. They all transformed, landing a few paces in front of us.

"Optimus Prime." The blue mech rumbled. Then his optics fell on me, cowering behind the Prime.

"Skyquake!?" I gasped, "B-b-but you're–"

"You mistake me for my twin, who is one with the Allspark, as you are no doubt aware, former Commander Starscream." He growled, saying my name and title like they each were different sentences. I inched backwards nervously. "I am Dreadwing, and it is my duty as Megatron's first lieutenant to render all traitors to my lord and master for due punishment. And you, Starscream, have committed a capital offense. I knew you were of questionable honor, but aiding the Autobots…" he looked from Optimus to me and back with disgust.

" _First Lieutenant_?!" I gasped. The drones trained their blasters on me, and I shrunk back closer to Optimus, aiming to use him as a shield.

"Dreadwing," the Prime got the blue Seeker's attention, "if you wish to have custody of Starscream, I am afraid you will have to take him." Optimus transformed out his other blaster.

"And I am afraid that I am not giving you a choice," he retorted.

"I chose my side," I spat, "and if you have any sense of honor, Dreadwing–"

"Do not lecture me about honor, deserter!" the blue Seeker snarled, "If you knew what you were speaking of, you would be standing in my place." He looked to Optimus, "I will request, only once, that you surrender the relic."

"I was going to ask the same of you, Dreadwing." The Prime replied firmly.

"Then I would say we are on equal footing, were there not five of us and only two of you." He said cooly.

No one moved for a long, tense moment, save for optics darting around. Dreadwing's glared at mine; I felt as if he was looking through me, reading me not unlike how one would a book. I wrenched my gaze to his pedes, not knowing if I was shivering from the cold or from something else.

In a fluid motion, the blue Seeker unhitched a minigun from his back that I hadn't noticed earlier and fired a shot at Optimus. The drones followed suit by transforming out their blasters and Optimus returned fire. I did the best I could to steel myself, then added my red plasma to the mix.

I ducked to avoid a shot to my helm but then the Prime crashed into my side, pushing me out of the way of a shot bound for my chest plate. I skidded a short distance, looking up at him in surprise once I had regained my footing, but he had already rushed off.

He felled one of the four drones with a blaster shot to the helm, but the three others kept advancing, a safe distance away from Dreadwing's calculated blaster fire. The Prime sprang back to dodge the shots, and in turn landed one on the blue Seeker's shoulder plating.

Dreadwing snarled and switched to incendiary grenades. He fired three of them at Optimus, three of them at me. The Prime timed it perfectly, leaping up and dodged all of them simultaneously as they whizzed by harmlessly beneath him. I didn't see the aftermath, too preoccupied in an attempt to dodge the ones coming at me. I tried to copy Optimus by simply jumping over them, and it worked with two. The third glanced off my shin but didn't detonate, instead landing innocently at my pedes.

Time seemed to slow. Behind me, fiery explosions erupted from the five grenades, sending melting ice into the air. The explosion reflected off the glacier's walls and the mixture of ice and snow beneath my pedes in a dazzling shower of colors. I didn't transform, it would only make the virus kill me faster as Optimus and Ratchet had said.

Then time sped back up, so I turned and tried to run right as the incendiary detonated at my pedes and the explosion blasted me into the air. Massive tongues of flame swirled around me in stunning, violent shades of orange and yellow as I flew through the air, stubbornly refusing to transform into a jet. At least snow made for soft landings.

* * *

Optimus felt more than saw the grenade go off at Starscream's pedes as the smaller Seeker tried to run. But he did see whatever remained of the charred mech go flying and vanishing into the thick, black smoke.

"Starscream!" He shouted, moving to rush off into the smoke and already dying flames, but Dreadwing pulled out his sword and brought it down next to the Prime to focus his attention.

"You and I," the blue Seeker snarled, "were not yet finished."

Suddenly Dreadwing was the perfect candidate for Optimus to vent on. The Prime roared, transforming out a sword and aiming to deliver brutal blows, which the other mech each time narrowly managed to deflect. Dreadwing slowly gained the upper hand and Optimus received a few shallow cuts because of it, but the Prime hardly noticed or cared.

Optimus feinted a slash downwards that had enough force backing it up to take the blue Seeker's arm off and Dreadwing fell for it. He raised his blade, blocking Optimus's sword and leaving his chest plate unguarded. The Prime roared again, delivering a flying kick.

Dreadwing skidded backwards, unfazed, and twirled his sword. "Rage cripples one more than wounds in battle, Optimus."

"As I am well aware," the Prime growled.

Dreadwing ran forward and brought his sword down towards Optimus' helm in a cruel, silver arc.

* * *

I flew through the air and landed on my wings in a deep pocket of snow, the cold feeling amazing against my hot plating. I opened my optics, stinging from the heavy, black smoke that still covered me like a blanket. I coughed, trying in vain to expel some of the stuff from my intakes. Groaning, I brushed a few blackened, half-melted ice chunks off my chest and hauled myself to my pedes. The smoke was still so dense, I could see maybe five meters in each direction, if that.

"Well," I huffed quietly, "that could have been worse." I felt a bit burned, but otherwise intact. I thought for sure that incendiary was the end of me, but was I complaining?

I looked down at my chest plate. Knock Out would have had a spark attack; the layer of soot and char was so thick that I couldn't see any silver beneath the black. The same applied everywhere else, and I assumed my faceplates were no exception. I wiped at my optics, and my servo came back blacker than it already was.

"Op-Optimus?" I called out, but then doubled over as a fit of coughing wracked my frame. I hoped that had cleared most of the smoke out. But no answer came, other than more of the stuff blowing into my intakes. I circled around, trying to get my bearings but it was useless with all the smog.

"I may as well be underground," I grumbled, picking a random direction and tromped off. Every once in awhile I had to stop to dig the packed snow and ice out from in between my heel struts; it was simply too cold to bear. The thing that worried me the most was that I was leaving an obvious trail for any optics that might be looking. Again, if I could only use my wings I would save so much time…

The smoke finally thinned and even eventually cleared. "About time–" my voice escalated into a shriek as I nearly walked off the edge of a cliff face. Chunks of snow dislodged beneath my pedes and I skittered backwards, panting from how close I had come to splatting on the ice below. Or worse, shattering through it into the even icier sea.

I shook off the unpleasant thoughts and looked ahead. The drop wasn't as far as it had appeared at first, I could probably jump and be intact. But that wasn't what had caught my attention. A small cluster of human buildings squatted in the middle of the lowest part of these glaciers, most likely for military or research purposes if I were to guess.

"As I suspected, humans. I imagine I will find the relic here." I watched a few helicopters take off, which led me to guess that Agent Fowler had cleared out the area, knowing our proximity to it. "Then again," I murmured to myself, "I can only say 'our' if he is still functioning after that explosion." The unsavory thoughts followed me like the black cloud that I had escaped: lingering at the back of my processor but not entirely out of sight either.

I started down the side of the icy cliff, hoping with all my spark that I wouldn't slip. It was as if I had lost my T-Cog all over again…

"This is too unfair!" I punched the ice wall, chipping it.

* * *

Dreadwing sheathed his sword and readied his fists, charging at the Prime. Optimus did likewise, but the Seeker got there first and tackled the red mech off the edge of a cliff face. The remaining three drones started, thinking both of them would offline.

But the pair got up and traded blows once again, until Dreadwing uppercutted Optimus' helm. The Autobots' leader skidded in the snow and rose again. He transformed out a blaster and the blue mech was about to do the same, but Optimus jerked it above him, firing at the cliff face.

"Your aim is poor." Dreadwing sneered.

"That is a matter of perspective." Optimus countered as the icy wall of the cliff splintered and crashed down around the blue Seeker. The Prime transformed, skidding and swerving out of the way of the avalanche and off in search of Starscream, if he was even functioning. The Prime hoped so.

The trio of drones cautiously walked and slid down the icy slope, looking for any signs of friend or foe. Then Optimus charged out of the chilling fog, blasters blazing. One of the Vehicons was down before he even knew what hit him, and the other two scrambled to transform and fire their blasters at the incoming Prime.

Optimus kicked one of the drones down with a flying leap, then jerked him up and used him as a living shield against the blaster fire as he ran at the other. He tossed the one he had used as a shield aside, and the other, knowing all too well how this would end, transformed and shot off into the sky. Optimus allowed him to leave, let him go report to Megatron of Dreadwing's failure. Further division and chaos among the Decepticon ranks would only make them easier targets for engaging the Autobots.

He drove off again in search of the relic and whatever remained of Starscream, just as Dreadwing pulled himself free from his icy prison. The Seeker heard the rumble of Optimus' engine and saw his tire tracks stretching off into the distance. He smirked and transformed, flying off in pursuit.

* * *

"Hellooo?" I crooned, strutting into a warehouse. "Is anyone in here?" Only my voice echoed back in reply, and the drip, drip, dripping of icicles melting overhead. "No? Oh well, then this relic must be free for the taking." I smirked, my optics settling on the only thing in the room other than dusty old boxes and crates. A chunk of clear ice, massive by human standards, and within it, the relic, already extracted from its container.

"Well, well, what might we have here?" I smirked, fingertips inches from the ice.

"The last thing you shall ever see."

I gasped and whirled around to find Dreadwing standing in the doorway.

I backed away from the relic, "B-but Optimus–" I didn't even have the luxury of finishing my sentence before said red mech walked up behind the blue Seeker. Optimus' optics completely missed me, standing in the shadowy corner of the warehouse.

"Dreadwing, I cannot allow you to leave here with this relic." Optimus declared.

"I know that, Prime," he hefted his minigun, "but I do not intend to give you a choice."

Dreadwing managed to fire a shot just as Optimus knocked his blaster out of his servo. They began to pummel each other again with swift, calculated strikes and dodges that were of the same caliber. They took the fight further and further from the warehouse that had so suddenly turned from my prison into a refuge.

I approached the sparkling, clear ice that the relic was trapped in again, unable to discern yet as to what it was or its make. And there was nothing in this warehouse that resembled an appropriate tool, let alone an ice pick.

"Well," I sighed in resignation, "beggars can't be choosers." I brought my fists down hard onto the ice. It showed no sign of cracking. I frowned at it, so close and yet so far. "Ugh, this is going to take awhile."

* * *

Dreadwing had Optimus in a headlock, "Yield, or face destruction."

"Not while my spark still beats!" Optimus grabbed his arms and hurled him forwards but the blue Seeker landed nimbly on his pedes, though it wasn't too hard to tell that they both were growing tired.

"Unfortunately for you, that will not be for very long." And he flipped out a detonator and pushed the button. Optimus' optics widened, and he flung a bomb off his back. It exploded in midair as the Prime ran, but he was still blasted off his pedes.

Optimus charged back at the Seeker after regaining his footing, "The only spark you've taken today is Starscream's, I cannot allow you to rob our species of another!" The Prime's tone was full of malice and grief.

* * *

The ice around the relic finally shattered and I tried to shake some feeling back into my cold servos. I wiped more soot and ash off my faceplates, holding it up to the meager light in the dim warehouse.

"Armor… of Decepticon origin," I smirked, examining it even more closely. The trigger for its activation was in the form of a protruding spike on its underside. Without hesitation, I stabbed it into my chest plate, not sure of what to expect and also hoping that I hadn't just punctured my spark chamber.

Immediately, it rapidly expanded outwards over my chassis. I felt it flatten my wings down, each new plate sliding out over my arms and legs until it completely covered me from helm to pede not a second later.

I grinned, examining my new shiny armor, which fit like a glove. I made a new exit, via the roof, redefining the meaning of "making an entrance" as I landed in front of Optimus and Dreadwing. The armor cracked the ice, and I would have been worried had the latter not been meters thick.

"I could get used to this," I grinned, now standing several feet taller than Dreadwing, who had his sword at Optimus' throat, the Prime on the ground. The blue mech glared at me, while Optimus looked like he couldn't believe his optics.

Optimus struggled to get to his pedes, but Dreadwing shoved him down again, "Starscream? You are–"

"Sooty, but very much intact," My grin deepened as I strode towards Dreadwing, and even he looked unsettled.

"The Apex Armor." The blue Seeker snarled, pushing his sword closer towards Optimus' neck cables. "You dare to claim what rightfully belongs to Lord Megatron?!"

I chuckled, "And what do you intend to do about it, _Commander_?" I raised my fists, a grin still etched into my faceplates. "Now," I cracked the side of my neck cables from side to side, rolling my shoulders, "shall we do this the easy way or the hard way?"

He rushed at me with a roar and his sword raised high above his helm, and brought it down on the suit's chest plate with enough force to cleave a boulder in two. I flinched at the sound of the impact, but when I looked down there wasn't even a scratch. I cackled at his 'feeble' attempt, and gave him a slap that sent him skidding twenty meters.

"The hard way it is. Not so big and strong, are you now, Dreadwing?" I met the blue mech's glare with a sneer.

Optimus was already on his pedes with a finger to his comm unit, "Agent Fowler, we need a bridge."

I stomped over to Dreadwing, more than ready to finish the job, but Optimus rushed forwards and grabbed my arm from behind to stop me. I almost batted him away but instead looked down, startled with myself at how quickly I had almost turned against him. He appeared not to notice, but I suspected the opposite.

"The battle is won. We need not inflict harm past the point of when it is necessary." The Prime said stoically.

"Would Dreadwing extend that courtesy to us if the situation were reversed?" I shot back, storming towards said Seeker again.

"And that is yet another thing that separates us from the Decepticons." He countered, letting me go. "Starscream! Behind you!" He suddenly shouted

Dreadwing held up the detonator. I was confused, turning away from Dreadwing and looking back towards the Prime, who had stepped back a short distance. "Wh–" then I gasped as Dreadwing pushed the button on the device, and a bomb started ringing… the sound coming from behind my shoulder. And it was right in the spot I couldn't reach.

Then it blew up, but I was still standing when the smoke cleared, except "doubled over laughing" would have been more precise.

"Is that all you have, Dreadwing?" I cackled, hearing what sounded like a touch of madness inflecting my tone.

But then I choked, hearing a familiar ringing sound overlapping itself from multiple sources. Optimus and I exchanged a horrified glance. The Prime wasted no time, transforming and drove to a distance where he wouldn't be blown to atoms, but I, as usual, wasn't as lucky. Dreadwing had been fast. Those spiked, blue bombs that matched the other Seeker's paint ringed me in a tight circle, and the blue mech himself was nowhere to be found, having already flown out of here. Then the Cybertronian numerals on the tiny screens of the explosives simultaneously hit zero.

I screeched, explosions once again erupting around me. But this time I was falling. "NO–!"

I was rescued from the icy depths of the ocean by a ground bridge. It appeared beneath me, and then I was skidding across the floor of our base, yet again. Optimus followed shortly behind me, having apparently leapt in by the way he had better footing than me. The bridge closed behind him with a bright flash of light.

"Whoa!" Jack, Miko, and Raf gasped.

"Totally didn't see that one coming." Arcee smirked sarcastically.

Bumblebee chirped excitedly as I got to my pedes, [Is that the relic?]

"Yes it is." I now towered up above all of them, even Optimus, and the base had begun to feel rather small.

"You want to take that off so others could give it a try?" the blue femme requested, holding out her palm expectantly.

"All in due time. I put a few dents in dear Dreadwing, did I not, Optimus?" I smirked, punching the button in the center of the armor's chest plate to deactivate it.

"Yes, you performed admirably, Starscream." Optimus congratulated as the armor deconstructed itself.

"But remember what Ratchet said?" Raf asked, nervously adjusting his glasses and looking to me, "Did you transform?"

"Other than my blasters, no." I now clutched the Apex Armor in a servo, dangling it out of Arcee's reach with a light smirk.

Suddenly an arm identical to my own reached right through my black chest plate and plucked the armor from my grasp. I yelped, whirling around. Seven smirked at me, playing catch with it.

"W-what is that?" I asked, pointing to the device on his wrist with a trembling finger.

He stuck his servo through the armor, "A phase shifter."

"And I thought mine would be better," I huffed, feigning annoyance, "but yours allows one to be untouchable as well."

Then Miko leaned over the edge of the platform behind Seven and brushed her fingers through his helm's crest, "Boop!" she broke into a fit of giggling.

"Boop yourself!" Seven tried to catch her, but she hid underneath a table, eyes sparkling.

Optimus smiled and we all chuckled while Seven turned off the shifter and proceeded in an attempt to chase the girl, walking through the platform. Agent Fowler glared at us as he pushed buttons at the computer, his expression clearly stating that he would rather be undisturbed. There was always one.

Then Miko "booped" his chin, and we all started laughing again.

"Why must you?" Seven protested halfheartedly, trying and failing to suppress a grin.

She smiled knowingly, "If it puts you in a better mood, then it's worth it!"

I wiped some soot out of my optics, "How touching, Miko. If you all will excuse me, I have a well-earned wash with my name on it. When I'm done, my armor will hurt to look at."

"And you're saying that it never does?" Arcee quipped. I gave the femme a little sarcastic wave and strode off towards the quarantine showers, which we used as regular ones under most circumstances. Well, Seven and I were the only ones who needed to. The others all used human car washes, but it was a mystery to me how they managed to pay for them.

An image of Bulkhead being put under arrest by human police for stealing a car wash suddenly popped into my helm and I chuckled quietly to myself, "No, officer, you see, I'm actually an alien robot fighting a war on your planet… but they don't pay us. And I can't just get clean in a river, they don't have the colorful soap…" I trailed off, laughing too hard to keep going.

Soon enough, I stood under a near-scalding stream of water. After being in Antarctica, albeit it wasn't for too long, the hot water felt so nice on my cold plating. I set to work finding my silver paint job beneath the black soot and ash, resolving that when I emerged, even Knock Out would be jealous.


	8. 8 - Triage

VIII - Triage

Ratchet stepped out of a ground bridge and into a clearing surrounded by a sparse pine forest where Wheeljack's ship, the _Jackhammer_ , sat. The Wrecker himself leaned against it, playing catch with a grenade as birds chirped overhead and Ratchet strode towards him.

"The boss thought you needed backup, huh?" The white mech smirked, clipping the grenade on his hip. "I have to admit, with the new additions to our ranks, I figured one of them former 'Cons would be flying with you, not me."

"They are otherwise engaged, and if you must know," Ratchet frowned, the ground bridge closing behind him, "Optimus feels strongly that you require supervision." He poked Wheeljack in his chest plate.

"I'm sure it's not the other way around, doc." He smirked. "Shouldn't you be beating someone to health with one of your magic wrenches?"

"Don't call me doc." Ratchet shot back cooly.

"Sure thing, chief." Wheeljack smirked. The medic growled in wry frustration and boarded the _Jackhammer_. His fingertips ghosted across the controls, but Wheeljack pulled him back, "Easy there, tiger. I'll handle the flying."

Ratchet quietly grumbled to himself and sank down in the copilot's chair. "I will never forgive you if you even think of doing a barrel roll."

"Thanks for the idea, doc."

"My name is not 'doc,' it is 'Ratchet'!" The medic bristled.

Wheeljack ignored him, maneuvering the ship into the air so it zipped above the treetops. "So, all of Team Prime's busy hunting down these four Iacon relics?" he asked, glancing at the medic.

"Would it kill you to keep your servos on the controls?" Ratchet shot back. The Wrecker sarcastically gripped the controls tightly like a textbook driver. "And yes, we are chasing down the four which are currently in play."

"There's more?"

"Megatron maintains possession of the entire Iacon database," the medic reminded him, "we have yet to learn how many relics or Decepticon weapons have been hidden away on this planet."

"Say," Wheeljack looked as if an idea had just struck him, "Ol' Screamy was a loyal 'Con not too long ago, do you think he'd know how many of them there are? Maybe even where to find a few of 'em?"

"I find that scenario unlikely," Ratchet countered, "and not just because he has never been completely loyal to Megatron." Wheeljack rolled his optics and the medic pretended to not notice. "Before he joined us months ago, Starscream had been rogue for quite some time. I am sure he knew of the Iacon database when he was still under Megatron's tyranny, but that was before they had any means of decoding its contents."

Wheeljack frowned and shrugged, "It was worth a shot. But speaking of 'Cons," an alarm began to chirp shrilly, "we got incoming."

"Soundwave." Ratchet raised out of his seat and looked at the screen beneath the ship's windshield.

"Megatron's communication's chief, huh. I think we should send him a message." The white mech smirked, throwing a couple switches, "Doc, you might want to hold onto something." Before he could get a reply from the medic, he jerked the controls. Ratchet gasped at the sudden jolt as the ship did a sudden one-eighty so it faced Soundwave.

"I told you no barrel rolls!"

Wheeljack grinned and leaned forwards towards the glass, flipping out the blasters on the ship's hull.

"Are you trying to send us to the scrap yard?" Ratchet snapped, clutching the metal armrests of his seat so hard that he dented them.

"Maybe I'm trying to get you to loosen up a little."

"This is not the time for chitchat!"

Wheeljack decided to take that as a challenge, "Why, sure it is!" He chased Soundwave into a cloud, then shot out of it, but the blue mech was nowhere to be seen. The white mech punched a few things on the console in front of him.

"What are you doing now?"

"You'll see."

Ratchet studied the screen, "Did you just–"

"Yup. Hey 'Wave, if you're listening, come get some. There's plenty of hurt for everyone," the white mech smirked. Ratchet gawked at Wheeljack as he spun the ship around and punched a button on the console, shutting off the broadcast.

"What in the Allspark was that?!"

Wheeljack didn't even glance at him, "Shortwave FM radio. Works like a charm."

"But–you–do you not realize that you have just revealed our location anyone who would want it?!"

"That was the idea, smart guy. But the only bot in the area that'd want our gears for breakfast is the one we're after."

Soundwave dropped out of a dense cloud above them, weaving in and out of blaster fire. Suddenly something large detached from his hull and shot backwards toward the _Jackhammer_.

"What was that?" Wheeljack asked, straining to see.

"Laserbeak," Ratchet answered, "Soundwave's surveillance drone." Laserbeak wove around in the air behind Wheeljack's ship, rapidly shooting red plasma at them. The Wrecker did a barrel roll to avoid the shots, which Ratchet clearly wasn't pleased about.

Soundwave suddenly banked and flew off at a downward angle, vanishing off the _Jackhammer_ 's radar.

"Wheeljack, maintain pursuit! Soundwave is merely using the drone to distract us." Ratchet ordered, unwisely getting out of his seat again.

The white mech pushed his ship to go faster, "I welcome a good distraction."

"This is no time for games!"

"Then why is he trying to push my buttons?" Wheeljack executed a flip and they ended up behind the drone, blasters blazing. Laserbeak managed to dodge their shots, and they all zipped into another cloud.

" _Now_ will you go after Soundwave?" Ratchet insisted as they jetted out of the cloud, Laserbeak nowhere to be seen.

But then the drone appeared far in front of them, shooting out of another cloud, flying straight at the _Jackhammer_. They both opened fire, rapidly closed in on each other.

"What are you doing!" Ratchet gasped, bracing for impact as the drone bore down on them. "WHEELJACK!"

Wheeljack's answer was a war cry and he pushed the _Jackhammer_ 's blasters to fire faster. Laserbeak flew downwards, just out of his crosshairs and the white mech took off in pursuit, leaving Ratchet to lurch back against his seat.

"Not this time!" Wheeljack shouted, blasting the ship's thrusters. Laserbeak once again wound up in its crosshairs. The Wrecker fired, and a shot of blue plasma wedded the Cassetticon's wing. It began to spiral down towards the forest beneath them. "Choke on that, 'Con!" He whooped, pumping a fist.

"You did it!" Ratchet exclaimed as if he couldn't believe it. But suddenly the ship lurched forwards. "What was that?"

"We've been hit, probably by a stray shot. " Wheeljack announced grimly. The ship wobbled in the air, its thrusters belching out black smoke as it began a rapid descent. "We may be in for a rough landing."

"This is your fault!" Ratchet snapped, "If you hadn't acted so rashly, we could have followed Soundwave and retrieved the relic instead of going on this absurd wild goose hunt!"

"I think the phrase is 'wild goose chase.'"

"Aha! So you–" the _Jackhammer_ lurched sideways, flipping end over end before Wheeljack managed to right it.

Wheeljack wrestled with the controls, "If you'd hush up, I would be having a better time landing her."

Ratchet, being the smart mech he was, grit his denta and braced for impact. The ship smashed through the treeline and dug a furrow in the dirt before coming to a complete stop. The two mechs staggered out, waving smoke away from their faceplates.

"Ugh," Wheeljack huffed, standing behind the _Jackhammer_ , "left thruster's fried."

"We need to resume our search immediately, Soundwave is no doubt nearly reaching the relic as we speak!" Ratchet exclaimed urgently.

"She's not going anywhere," Wheeljack stated, jerking a thumb at the smoking form of the _Jackhammer_ behind him, "if we're gonna get that relic, we need to roll." At that, he promptly transformed, Ratchet following behind him. The pair drove off, engine noise fading to nothing beneath the small clouds of dust their wheels kicked up. They vanished into the lengthening shadows of a high cliff face as the sun dipped further beneath the horizon.

Neither of them noticed Laserbeak struggling and shooting sparks on the ground a few meters off to the side of the ship, the tip of its left wing missing and a charred stump in its place.

* * *

Soundwave transformed and alighted on top of a rocky outcropping which jutted above the dense forest like a sore thumb, mountains cupping it. His sensors chirped, indicating that the relic he sought was just beneath his pedes, entombed in the mountain on which he stood. The silent mech's long, tentacle-like arms shot out of his chest plate, their tips spinning fast enough to mimic drills. Without hesitation, he plunged them into the rock.

Suddenly he straightened up as his scanners detected something else… two enemy signals, fast approaching. The silent mech inclined his helm slightly as the clawed tip of one of his arms hit something beneath the ground. He swiftly and carefully extracted it, holding it high just as the two Autobots drove out from behind a cliff face to meet him. He attached the device to his arm and sprung backwards as Wheeljack transformed and rushed at him, dual swords flashing. Ratchet hung back closer towards the cliff face, ready to jump in if he was needed. He knew full well that he was not a fighter, and if he joined in, would most likely be a distraction and hindrance for Wheeljack. So he waited for the perfect opportunity to arise, as they always did.

Soundwave deflected the Wrecker's swipes while hurriedly trying to discern what exactly the relic was by comparing it to his short extent of knowledge of what the mysterious vaults beneath Iacon had contained. It didn't come up with a match, and he canceled the search in frustration. He could tell it was a weapon and which end he should keep pointed away from him, but not much more.

Wheeljack backed away from him as the silent mech's tentacle arms slithered back into his chest plate and he took on a better suited fighting stance. Soundwave was already running algorithms on how the fight could play out, interchanging variables based on what he knew of Wheeljack and Ratchet, all the while watching the Wrecker with a calculating, unreadable stare from his visor. The Autobots' medic didn't seem eager intervene, and Soundwave was fine with that. It took one less variable out of his mess of equations.

"This should be fun." Wheeljack smirked, charging once again. Soundwave pushed the algorithms to the back of his processor and raised his arm, firing a pulse from the relic. A sharp ringing noise rang out, and the Wrecker stumbled backwards as if receiving a blow to his chest.

Soundwave now knew what this device was: a resonance blaster, capable of emitting frequencies that could do much more damage than shatter glass; they could split steel. But Wheeljack wasn't deterred, ducking another, louder blast from the device and darted forwards, trying to slash and stab Soundwave with his twin swords. However, they were evenly matched, Soundwave managed to dodge every attempt and tried to inflict his own, but Wheeljack kept pressing.

The Wrecker finally made a mistake, trying to stab Soundwave's chest plate, aiming for his spark chamber while leaving his own wide open. The blue mech whirled and Wheeljack's sword was suddenly pinned between the silent mech's torso and left arm. The white mech tried to pull it free but Soundwave was faster, jerking it out of his grip with a sharp twist of his elbow joint. His tentacle-like arms shot out of his chest plate and slammed into the white mech. Wheeljack skidded backwards, teetering on the edge of the cliff before regaining his balance while Soundwave examined the sword. It was one-handed but not clearly made specifically for a left or right servo.

The white mech roared, clutching his remaining sword in a death grip while he charged at Soundwave. The blue mech swiftly threw his sword end over end at Wheeljack's helm on a path that would certainly not miss, but the Wrecker slashed it out of the air and kept coming.

One of Soundwave's tentacle arms once again shot out of his chest plate, this time firmly attaching to the Wrecker's helm. Wheeljack struggled viciously as he was raised into the air, managing to nick the arm with the tip of his sword, but was unable to inflict more damage. The blue mech slammed him down against the edge of the cliff face, powering up his new weapon.

Then something hit the silent mech from behind. Hard. He whirled around, coming visor-to-faceplates with Ratchet, and his arm was pulled back to deliver another harsh punch. Wheeljack tore Soundwave's arm off his faceplates and sprang back to his pedes, butting his helm against the blue mech's visor. A web of cracks appeared over it and he staggered back towards Ratchet, who punched him from behind.

"There I go again, shattering expectations." The Wrecker smirked, raising his fists.

Soundwave pointed the resonance blaster at Ratchet, blasting him with a frequency so high that the medic's audials shorted in and out. Wheeljack yelled at Soundwave, drawing the silent mech's attention onto him and firing bolts of plasma from his blaster. Soundwave took a hit, staggering backwards a couple steps to the edge of the cliff face. Wheeljack took advantage of this, rushing forwards and tackled the blue mech off the cliffside.

"NO!" Ratchet shouted over the ringing in his audials and he dashed over to the edge and looked down, afraid of what he might find.

The Wrecker stood over Soundwave's prone form as his visor stared up at him. "Any last words?" The white mech sneered beneath his faceguard as Soundwave stared down the barrel of his blaster. "Right, the silent type."

"Wheeljack!" Ratchet yelled again, "Behind you!"

The Wrecker spun around to see one of Soundwave's tentacles raised high above his helm. Right as a high frequency from the resonance blaster met his audials. He staggered away from Soundwave, clutching the sides of his helm in a death grip. Ratchet's pede slipped and he fell off the cliff, landing in a small plume of dust next to Wheeljack and laid there, groaning. The two Autobots' optics flickered off.

Soundwave didn't need to feel for the beat of their sparks to know that they were still functioning. But then a familiar sound pinged his scanners, and he strode a few paces away, lost in tangles of data. Laserbeak was back online.

The blue mech didn't notice Ratchet, who had feigned unconsciousness, quietly creeping up behind him. Soundwave transformed and the medic lunged forwards, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his wing. The silent mech flipped upside down in the air and proceeded to perform dizzying corkscrews, but Ratchet managed to hold on. Thousands of years as a medic had given him a firm grip and steady servos, along with a stubbornness that made him a force to be reckoned with.

"Hey, doc?" Wheeljack groaned into a comm as Soundwave spiraled higher and higher into the sky.

"I am a bit busy!" Ratchet shouted over the wind across the link.

"Look up."

First, Ratchet had to distinguish the sky from the ground. Once he was sure which way was up, he strained his neck cables, hoping for a better view that Soundwave would not allow him to get.

The _Nemesis_ cruised high above them, its massive shadow swallowing up the forest beneath the setting sun.

"Wh-what is Megatron doing here?!" Ratchet exclaimed, adjusting his grip on Soundwave's wing when his fingers had begun to slip.

"Don't know. But we'd better clear outta here, because I don't think ol' Bucket Head's gonna be too happy."

Ratchet snarled in frustration, grinding his denta and drew his arm back to punch Soundwave, but then he thought better of it. If the medic knocked the blue mech out of the air, he would go down too and they both would be scrapped. No, best to stick along and enjoy the ride, that is, if he wasn't bucked off. If he could just find the resonance blaster…

* * *

Soundwave knew Wheeljack was not far behind when he transformed above the crash site of the Autobots' vessel in the forest. He flung Ratchet off of him and gave the medic a harsh kick for good measure, landing lightly on the hard-packed dirt and walking towards Laserbeak. The Cassetticon struggled on the ground a few paces away, fluttering weakly, but unable to fly until it received repairs. Soundwave gingerly picked it up and it transformed back around his chest plate.

He silently watched Ratchet beneath the rising moon and the _Nemesis_ soaring overhead, wishing to end this, here and now. But he knew Megatron would not approve. Ratchet had made it personal between the two of them. He, after all, was the one who stormed into an energon mine just to find Megatron and give the warlord a good punch square in the faceplates so hard that it left the latter leaking energon.

Ratchet had unfinished matters with Soundwave's master, and the blue mech was going to let Megatron finish them. He raised the resonance blaster and fired a pulse just on the border of bestowing one with processor damage. The medic crumpled to his knees, not even having enough time to cry out. Soundwave opened a ground bridge and began to drag the medic's unconscious chassis to it. He wasn't faking this time. The bridge led to the _Nemesis_ ' brig, hovering hundreds of feet above them.

"Ratchet!" Wheeljack shouted, charging out of the forest. Soundwave sped up, but his frame wasn't as strong as Megatron's, and Ratchet was a ground-based vehicle. Those were almost always denser than fliers, if not from parts, then from the sheer pounds of dirt that probably got stuck between their plating. The blue mech tugged Ratchet through the portal and onto the _Nemesis_. The bridge closed behind them, inches from Wheeljack's outstretched fingertips. The white mech let out a roar that relieved the trees of birds for miles.

* * *

"Ah, the resonance blaster." Megatron purred, holding the device up to the dim light aboard his warship. "Crafted by Decepticon scientists for maximum sonic devastation. Soundwave, you have performed admirably. You brought me not only a relic I sought, but also a prisoner, whom we shall put to valuable use," he congratulated while facing his TIC, whose helm was erect with pride and satisfaction. "Unlike Dreadwing here, who somehow managed to lose the Apex Armor to Starscream and the Autobots!" The blue Seeker wilted beneath his glare next to Soundwave. "However, two more decrypted coordinates remain in play, and I have every confidence that Knock Out and–"

"Can you believe what they did to me!" Said red mech walked into the room, pointing frantically at a few scuff marks across his chest plate.

Megatron couldn't care less, stalking over to him. "Did you retrieve the relic?!"

Knock Out bit his lip angrily, "No, my liege."

"Then I suggest you remind me of your usefulness by examining Laserbeak, doctor." The warlord's tone could have turned water to ice.

Soundwave padded over to the infuriated medic. Knock Out examined it with a trained optic, "I would like to get a look at its wiring, but it should only require a few minor repairs." he spat through gritted denta.

Megatron seemed content with his answer for the moment, "Soundwave, if we are to maintain any advantage over the Autobots, decoding the remainder of the Iacon database must remain your top priority, understood?"

The blue mech nodded.

"Knock Out," the warlord turned to the medic, "See to it that you fix Soundwave's cracked visor, and that you have a little _chat_ with our new prisoner."

Knock Out inclined his helm, transforming out a drill, "I can be most persuasive," he smirked before transforming it away.

"Stop your preening! Am I clear?"

"Any more and you would be invisible."

"Learn to hold your glossa." Megatron growled quietly, turning around and already walking away.

"Apologies, my lord." Knock Out hissed.

The red mech watched Megatron stride away with a furious optic, listening to the _tic tic tic_ of Soundwave typing away at a console. The blue mech could wait, seeing as he already was trying to crack another set of coordinates. Knock Out had something he needed to crack as well. He planned on having more than a "chat" with the Autobot medic.

He ran off to the med bay, snagging his shock prod, his buffer, which he tucked between his thigh plating, and a few other tidbits of this and that.

The red mech stopped in front of a mirror, beyond nervous and afraid of what he was about to attempt. He stared himself in the optic, squared his shoulders and stepped out of the med bay, trying not to look conspicuous. Primus forbid.

He strolled off at a brisk, but not hurried pace towards the ship's brig where Ratchet was being kept. With any luck, the old 'Bot would be conscious, making things go so much more smoothly.

Knock Out remembered the look in Seven's optics right after he stabbed the shock prod into his intake. He shivered. That was an instance he would rather forget. Seven's expression was identical to the one he–well, Starscream always wore right before Megatron delivered the final blow in another of his "lessons." He knew because he always watched those proceedings, not because he enjoyed it, no, he never would, but to step in if things became particularly bad on the the Seeker's part. He had to do it a handful of times, each was an experience he would rather have forgotten. And still, Knock Out had tried to kill Seven. Sure, he was Starscream's clone, but that didn't make a difference. What made a difference was that this time, Knock Out would be in front of the weapon instead of behind it.

The red mech's steps gained a new sense of purpose as confidence began to course through his veins. For once in his function, he was going to make something right. And anyone who got in his way could go blow themselves to Pit.

* * *

 **A/N: Knock Out has plans... plans you shall discover... read on...**


	9. 9 - Toxicity

IX - Toxicity

 _Earlier…_

Aboard The _Nemesis_ , Megatron watched the mechs before him with a calculating optic as he paced back and forth in front of them, servos folded neatly behind his back.

"Each of you is aware of what we seek, and where we shall find it?" The warlord affirmed, receiving solemn nods in reply. "Excellent, then do not keep me waiting. You all are competent enough to handle each situation I have awarded to you, so it would be best to return here with something other than an excuse."

"Understood, my liege." Dreadwing nodded confidently.

Knock Out smirked, twirling his shock prod, "I'll be in and out."

Megatron stopped in front of the red mech, glaring, "Keep your vanity in check, Knock Out."

The medic huffed, and he, the Vehicons and the Insecticon ground bridged into a section of New York's subway tunnels. Dreadwing and his small squadron of drones went next, changing the coordinates to an unassuming point in the Antarctic. He too stepped through the waiting bridge, vanishing in a flash of light. Soundwave glanced at Megatron, knowing his master had more faith in him by opting to not send drones along. The leader of the Decepticons seemed to know what he was thinking, but did not give any indication of doing so other than a light smirk. Taking that as receiving permission, Soundwave entered a new set of coordinates faster than the others had previously, and transformed, flying through the portal.

"My lord," a drone spoke up from another console, meeting the warlord's optics, "there's no one left. Who are you going to send to the fourth set of coordinates?"

Megatron cast him a shrewd look before changing the bridge's targeted coordinates to the fourth relic's location. "If you want something done right," he paused, looking once again at the drone, "do it yourself." And without elaborating upon what he meant, he strutted through the open vortex and it closed behind him.

* * *

"Be on your guard, Bulkhead." Optimus cautioned as the green mech charged through the open portal in the Autobots' base. Bulkhead exited the bridge at the foot of a smoking volcano on a remote, deserted island somewhere near the equator in the Pacific.

"Ugh!" He batted at the air in front of his faceplates, "Smells worse than the Decepticon barracks! Fine place to hide a relic." He grumbled, looking around for the relic. He huffed when he couldn't see it, opening a comm, "Base, I can't find any sign of the relic. Can you reconfirm coordinates?"

Raf answered on the other side of the comm, "Triangulating your coordinates…" he typed away at his laptop, "you're in the right spot."

"Then the coordinates are wrong, because there's nothing here." Bulkhead shot back, reaching up to the unit on the side of his helm to close the comm when he stopped abruptly. "But someone's coming." He could tell it was the engine of a ship. "Is Seven coming with me after all?"

"I'm still here." The clone answered on the other side of the comm. His voice took on a graver tone, "But I know who is chasing you."

Raf gulped, "Megatron."

Bulkhead abruptly closed the comm link as said tyrant flew over him, transforming and landing a short distance away from the Wrecker.

"I have to admit," Megatron cracked his neck cables from side to side, "I was expecting Optimus."

"Sorry to disappoint." Bulkhead jeered, and the two began circling each other. The green mech quietly opened a comm, "Hey Raf, if you could send Sev on over here…"

"On it." Came the human's reply and he shut off the link.

"Hear any word from Scream lately?" The green mech asked snidely, trying to keep him busy.

"Oh, you wouldn't happen to know which little hole he's cowering in, would you?" The warlord sneered.

Bulkhead's optics darted over towards a lumpy hill of frozen lava where a ground bridge had just appeared behind, right at Megatron's back. The flash of light was unmistakable, and so were the red tips of a certain Seeker's wings.

"You could say that." Bulkhead sneered with a smirk.

* * *

I poked my helm around the side of the hill of frozen lava, really more like a glorified mound. Bulkhead and I locked optics before Megatron stepped in front of me, cutting the green mech off from my view.

"What are you looking at?" Megatron snapped, whirling around to see behind him. I ducked behind the wall of lava, my wings fluttering and intakes coming in quiet pants. Too close, way too close. Megatron turned back to face the green Autobot again, "You will have to do better than that if you are wishing to distract me."

I inched out from behind the lava, blasters charging up and pointed at the warlord's back.

Bulkhead smirked, "Is this good enough for you?" and he jerked his helm at me.

Megatron spun around right as I opened fire. "Starscream, you traitor! Submit to your rightful Lord and master or face the dire consequences!" He began to stride towards me with murder in his optics. My blasters began shaking so badly that each shot missed by feet as he drew closer. "What a shame, dear Starscream." His sword slid out, he was close enough to me now that I could reach out and touch him if I stretched. Instead, I transformed my blasters away and balled my servos into fists to hide their shaking, staring defiantly into his optics. "If memory serves, I allowed to to fight in your last encounter. But this is first time you have willfully stood your ground, and it shall be your last."

"Not if I have a say in it!" Bulkhead roared, bringing his wrecking ball down towards Megatron's helm. The warlord whirled around, blocking it on the flat of his sword.

"I will tear out your vocalizer, as I did your scout's, if it is the only way to prevent you from doing so." Megatron snarled.

"Seven, I'll keep him busy, you go get the relic!" Bulkhead shouted at me. Without thinking twice, I transformed, jetting off in search of the relic.

"NO!" I heard Megatron roar, followed by a clash of metal on metal before the wind tore his voice away.

I pushed my engine to go faster as I shot down the side of the volcano, my optics scouring every foot of the frozen lava for any sign of the relic. Finally, I saw its container, further down the slope than I had anticipated it would have been.

"I have a visual!" I commed to Bulkhead, swooping down and transforming next to it. It sat upright, untouched by the lava around it. I bent down, twisting and tugging on the lid. It was stuck.

"This is just unfair." I groaned, glaring at it.

"What?! Are you hurt?" Bulkhead asked, steel clashing from the other end of the comm.

"No, no, I'm fine." I cut out the link, not wanting to distract him.

I gripped the lid of the container more tightly this time, and tugged for all I was worth. It popped off and I fell back onto my aft. I tossed the the lid aside and got back to my pedes, grumbling and looking into the jar.

The _empty_ jar.

I stared down into it for a quiet moment, unable to believe my optics. "Bulkhead!" I finally snapped into a comm.

"What–" the sound of blaster fire drowned out his voice for a moment, "what is it now, Sev?"

"Don't call me that! The relic is missing!"

"What!?"

"Get over here!"

"No promi–" the comm link abruptly went dead.

"Bulkhead? _Bulkhead_?! Scrap!" I switched the link off and kicked the container over for good measure before I transformed, soaring off to find out what had happened and in the meantime desperately comming Raf or anyone that was still at the base.

"Seven? What's the problem?" Agent Fowler answered.

"Bulkhead was battling Megatron… he-he isn't answering my comm," I panted, pouring on speed.

"I–" some background noise cut him off. "Hey!" he barked, I got the sense it wasn't at me. The call immediately terminated.

"Agent Fowler? Hello! Is anyone reading me, Primus, you can't just hang up on someone like that, it's rude, you know!"

A crackle of static ensued, and he picked up again. "I needed to quiet the others down, " he explained gruffly. "Now, what was it about Bulkhead?"

I growled to myself, "We're in the middle of a battle and you put me on hold!"

"Sounds more like you're running from it with all that engine noise," he retorted.

"Hardly, running _to_ it would be more apropos. Now shut up, I'm almost there!" I said a bit too harshly, and closed the link. He tried to call me again, but I ignored it.

* * *

Bulkhead laid on his front, groaning. His blasters still were out, but Megatron made sure that he wasn't about to use them. The warlord had a pede firmly planted on the brute's shoulder plate and the tip of his sword inches away from the green mech's unprotected neck cables. Bulkhead squirmed beneath his pede, trying to point his blaster at Megatron, but he only managed to wriggle it a little.

"Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn't." Megatron smirked.

"What have you done with the relic?" The green mech growled accusingly.

"It certainly took you long enough." Megatron sneered, "Correct me if I am mistaken; but the only way for you Autobots to locate a relic's coordinates at this juncture is when we Decepticons unearth them. Only then is their signal traceable."

"Sounds about right." The Wrecker grunted as Megatron's pede crushed down harder onto his shoulder plate.

"So if you'll excuse me," the warlord stepped off Bulkhead but his sword didn't move in the slightest, "I have to return to my ship. Best to deliver this powerful, _potent_ new weapon to our vaults. And as for you…" his sword dug into the mech's neck cables.

"He isn't going anywhere but with me!" Seven shouted, tackling Megatron from behind, which was a feat for a mech of his light build.

"Seven!" Bulkhead blinked in surprise, getting to his pedes. Small beads of bright blue energon sprung up where the warlord's sword had nicked his neck cables.

"You can thank me later." The Seeker snarled, jumping up and skittered off of Megatron.

"So, Starscream," Megatron's optics skimmed over Seven's wings, "you have seen fit to change your designation along with your stripes?"

Seven raised his missiles, "That is irrelevant."

The warlord chuckled, "And whom are you to speak of relevance?"

"Where is the relic?" Bulkhead roared, transforming his blasters into wrecking balls.

Megatron's crimson optics, a color that was disturbingly close to the Seeker's, met the blue ones belonging to the green mech. "And why would I tell you?"

Seven had his missiles raised and ready to fire. "Just say the word…"

Bulkhead held up a grenade, "Because I'll make you eat this if you don't."

"I would love to see you try." Megatron rumbled, swatting Seven away with a single swipe and charged Bulkhead. The Seeker collided painfully against a wall of hardened lava that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. "I will allow dear Starscream to watch as I tear the very spark out of your chassis, but don't worry. I'll allow you to watch as well." He brought down a heavy fist that caught a furious swing from one of Bulkhead's wrecking balls. The warlord slowly dug into it with his talons, causing the green mech to visibly wince, "And I would make it very slow and painful, be it not that I am pressed for time." And with that, he punched Bulkhead so hard in the center of his chest plate that the metal crumpled inwards, no doubt leaving some serious internal damage.

"Hand over the relic! Reinforcements are about to arrive!" Seven commanded, but he was bluffing. Megatron knew it, and not merely because of the quaver in his voice and blasters.

"That would be difficult, considering I dispatched a small squadron of Vehicons to extract the relic and safely relocate it to the _Nemesis_ before either of you had arrived." Megatron's triumphant smirk shot daggers at the pair of Autobots, while Bulkhead's glare could split rocks.

"Sev…" he groaned, looking to the trembling Seeker, "get back to base. He isn't worth it."

"Yes, Starscream, and go take your precious Bulkhead with you. But the next time we meet, I promise you, I will not be so generous." Megatron sneered, walking through his own ground bridge.

"Seven! Can you hurry up, Arcee and Bee need backup." Raf asked over a comm link.

"Nice timing." Seven said into the link as Megatron's bridge disappeared. Neither of the two attempted to follow, nursing their wounds. The Seeker's were minor, but Bulkhead's… Seven took one look at him and spoke into the comm link again, "When Ratchet gets back, you'll want him to prepare sickbay."

"Well look who's back," Agent Fowler said sarcastically on the other side of the comm.

"I was rather preoccupied!" the clone snapped back, "we're only taking steps to save the world here!"

"Well then, you get to come back to lollipops, stickers, band-aids, and pats on the back."

"Who for?" Bulkhead tried to smirk but it came out as a grimace, "Megatron already left."

Seven sighed loudly, closing the comm, "You, if it has somehow escaped your notice."

"Wouldn't bet on that."

"Shut up and save your strength."

"Glad that you care, Sev."

"I said shut up!"

* * *

I dragged my pedes through the ground bridge and into our base, clutching my aching left shoulder plate. It had collided roughly with some sharp edges of frozen lava after I was on the receiving end of a slap from Megatron which had sent me flying. My helm hung low and striped wings drooped in defeat, but I knew that I was needed in the subway tunnels of New York with Arcee and Bumblebee. So far, it had been a long day, but it was far from over. I dreaded what was to come next.

Bulkhead walked through the bridge behind me, limping and clutching his dented-in chest plate. Well, "dented in" was an understatement. Caved in was better suited.

"No luck?" Raf confirmed.

"Megatron was toying with us," Bulkhead growled, "he'd already snatched the relic by the time we got there. It was a total bust!"

I cast a sideways glance at Agent Fowler, "Can I exchange that pat on the back for a participation award?"

"Don't push it."

"Ha! More like you would want a statue erected in your honor!" Bulkhead scoffed, but then fell silent as pain contorted his faceplates.

"Take five, soldier. This one's on us." Agent Fowler suggested. Bulkhead shrugged, leaning against the med berth and shuttered his optics.

I smirked slightly at the agent, "And since when have any members of your government taken credit for anything?"

Agent Fowler evaded the shot, "I guess that makes me the first."

I rolled my optics, jogging through the bridge.

* * *

 ** _A few hours later…_**

"All are present and accounted for." Agent Fowler said, looking over the helms of the 'Bots in the room from his perch on the platform.

"Save for Ratchet. Seems like the doc's busier than the rest of us." Arcee pointed out.

Optimus touched a finger to his comm unit next to me, "Ratchet, what is your position? Have you secured the relic?" He asked, patiently waiting for almost a minute after, but didn't receive a reply. The Prime turned to face Raf and I had to step out of the way, wings fluttering in mild annoyance. "Rafael, lock onto his coordinates."

Raf nodded, typing away at his laptop with a fervor that almost made it look exciting. But then he slowed, "I can't find his signal!"

"What?!" Arcee exclaimed. She, Optimus, Seven, Bumblebee, and I all walked forwards to get a better view of the tiny screen.

"But wouldn't that mean he is offline?" My clone wondered, looking to Optimus.

The Prime shuttered his optics and looked away. The mood in the room quickly felt much more bleak and depressed.

My wings drooped, but suddenly a random thought jumped to the front of my processor. "Wait…" I had everyone's attention now, "what if Ratchet's signal is being masked?"

Arcee appeared to catch on first, "Yeah! Like with you and Sev at the _Harbinger_ , you had some cloaking mechanism enabled that shrouded your life signals from our view!"

Seven butted in, "Don't forget that it also hid us from the Decepticons as well."

I stood up a little straighter, puffing out my chest plate. "Yes, I made sure of that."

* * *

Knock Out took a deep intake, and opened the doors to the _Nemesis_ ' brig. Ratchet hung from the ceiling by chains wrapped around his wrists, his pedes a few feet off the floor.

He looked up, optics burning with cold anger, "What have you done with Wheeljack?"

The red medic twirled his shock prod, "I'm sure Lord Megsy would have put him to use as manual labor somewhere if we had caught him."

Ratchet blinked, holding his helm up a little higher, "Wheeljack escaped?"

"Shh," Knock Out hissed in his faceplates.

"What sick experiments does Megatron have planned for me today?" Ratchet snapped.

"Megatron is otherwise engaged." Knock Out tucked his shock prod away, "but I have an experiment planned for you. Now, if you struggle, it will only make this worse." He transformed out a drill and broke the chains off at the white medic's wrists. Ratchet landed heavily on the floor, staggering a little.

"What are you doing?" He asked, rubbing his wrists and looking at the red medic belligerently.

Knock Out ignored him, "So, part two of the experiment, how fast can you run?"

Ratchet looked at him in amazement, new understanding dawning on his features.

"Faster than you might think." His optics glowed with a fierce determination. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because I feel like it."

"Hmph."

"Shh!" The young doctor hissed as sudden pedfalls of Vehicons grew near. The two medics froze, optics locked on the open doorway. Three drones passed in front of it, glancing in for half a second, then did double takes.

"Knock Out, sir, what are you doing?" The first drone asked, warily transforming out a blaster.

The red medic glanced at Ratchet beside him, "Can you drive?"

"I can do better than that." The 'Bot transformed out his surgical blades and hurled himself at the drones. Knock Out watched in surprised shock as Ratchet dispatched all three Vehicons in a matter of seconds.

Knock Out cleared his throat after the last drone's chassis slid off the other medic's blades, "Remind me to ask for a second opinion if I ever have to undergo surgery at your servo.

"Voluntary?" Ratchet's optics gleamed.

"Of course!"

"I will remind you, if I do not forget." He transformed his blades away, "Are you just going to stand there?!"

Knock Out mentally shook himself, still not quite believing what he was doing. He transformed and drove off, not waiting for the other medic. Ratchet followed suit, sticking close behind him.

"How long will it take for Megatron to find out about this coup?" Ratchet finally hissed from his vehicle mode.

"He already knows, that's without question. Which is why we're racing to get out of here!"

"How can you expect me to trust you?" The ambulance snapped.

"You'll just have to wait and see then, won't you?"

Ratchet grumbled and they swung around a corner, zipping straight between five drones. They were so surprised that they just watched the pair race off before regaining their wits and shooting after them with blasters and thrusters.

The doctors reached a console, still ahead of the drones by a minute or so. "Here!" Knock Out hissed, and transformed, pointing to it.

Ratchet transformed, stalking over so he was right in the red mech's faceplates, seething. "I-I can't just open a bridge to my base! This is the Decepticon warship, in case it's slipped your processor!"

"It hasn't!" The other medic shot back, "Every bridge's activity is monitored, which is why we'll go so some remote corner of this planet and call for a bridge from there."

Ratchet frowned, "Well, be quick about it." Knock Out nodded, focusing on the screen. He entered a few codes and selected a random location on the globe. A ground bridge spiraled open, leading into a corner of Australia.

The white mech looked skeptical, "I'm still not–"

"Megatron will want my helm as much as yours now, so heed your own advice and be quick about it!" The red mech snapped.

The Autobot medic ran through the bridge just as the group of Vehicons appeared behind them in the doorway. Knock Out glanced back at the sound of their pedfalls and yelped, running through and it closed behind him.

* * *

Ratchet didn't care if Knock Out was coming. Sure, the young mech had helped him escape and for that he was indebted, but he was a Decepticon. And for that alone, he couldn't be trusted.

So when he ran through the ground bridge, panting, Ratchet delivered a swift punch to the side of his helm that made him live up to his name. The white medic picked up the limp mech and activated a new ground bridge with the remote after closing the previous one.

He ran through it and into the Autobot base, being met with with wide eyes and optics. "He's knocked out," Ratchet smirked.

"Duh!" Miko exclaimed.

Simultaneously, Starscream and Seven realized their mouths were hanging open and closed them quickly.

"Did you retrieve the relic?" Optimus asked as the medic dumped Knock Out on the floor.

"Negative. Soundwave got to it first." The old bot huffed, gesturing to Knock Out. "Let's slap some cuffs on him, chop chop. He's going to be waking up any moment now." Bumblebee went to grab a pair and shut them over the red mech's wrists.

"And Wheeljack?"

"He's fine, but his ship has seen better days, I'm sure."

"Have you guys forgotten about Bulkhead?" Jack asked, pointing at the green mech lying on the med berth in the corner of the room, his chest plate dented into a crater. Ratchet gasped in surprise, hurrying over.

"Hey, doc." Bulkhead smiled a greeting as Ratchet loomed over him.

"Yip, ip, ip," the medic shushed him, "save your strength."

"It's just a scratch."

"Oh, I'm sure." The medic's tone dripped with sarcasm.

The others turned their attention back to the conversation, seeing that the Wrecker was in good servos. It was silent for a moment before Starscream's optics fell on the red medic, still unconscious.

"We should scratch his paint," the Seeker snickered. Miko giggled, Arcee and Seven smirked, clearly loving the idea.

Optimus frowned at him, but that didn't stop Starscream from scraping a talon down the front of the medic's gleaming red chest plate. He stepped back, admiring his work with a smirk. A long, thin scratch stood out like a sore thumb.

"So, we acquired the phase shifter, Apex Armor," Starscream began to count off on his fingers, "and a whole lot of nothing after that."

"Megatron tricked us," Seven protested, "he already had the relic in his vaults by the time Bulkhead and I arrived."

The green mech huffed at that, "You could have been faster." Ratchet shushed him again.

"Did either of you find out what it is?" Arcee wondered.

"If we had, I would have told you." The clone replied cooly.

Ratchet spoke up before the question could be asked twice, "Soundwave got a resonance blaster: a weapon forged by Decepticons and capable of emitting frequencies that can split steel." Suddenly Knock Out's optics powered on.


	10. 10 - Hurt

X - Hurt

"Hello, Knock Out." I crooned, leaning over his faceplates.

"Ugh, please tell me this is just a dream." The red medic groaned, shuttering his optics and tried to squirm away.

"On the contrary," Seven piped up and Knock Out jerked upright, optics onlining at full charge.

"WHAT?!"

"I guess it's a nightmare." Jack smirked.

He looked around at each of us standing over him, his gaze lingering on Ratchet in the corner for a moment. "I-but–you…" he tried to get up, but the cuffs over his wrists inhibited his attempt.

"I wouldn't." Arcee growled, looking ready to transform out one of her blades. Knock Out glared at the cuffs, tugging on them. Then he noticed the long, thin, white scratch over his chest plate.

"You didn't!" He squealed.

"Guilty." I sneered, not feeling sorry in the least.

"Please, it's merely a paint scratch!" Ratchet huffed, glancing up from Bulkhead's side.

"I deserve far better after what I did for you!" The red mech snapped, earning a few confused looks. "Oh? So, doctor, did you tell them that you just came skipping off the _Nemesis_ and into the sunset?"

"Knock Out, I do not understand." Even Optimus sounded puzzled.

"Pardon my indiscretion," I interjected.

"Everything you say is an indiscretion." The red medic muttered.

I cleared my throat loudly, shooting him a glare, "but why should we believe anything you say? You just decide to drop in out of nowhere and think you can–"

"He saved my life." Ratchet said, looking up from Bulkhead with optics that told me he was dead serious.

"Finally, giving credit where it's due!" Knock Out exclaimed, putting on a smug smirk. Everyone was speechless, including myself and the children. Ratchet, having already known that, spoke up.

"I'll speak first," Ratchet finally said, "seeing that no one is arguing."

"No one wants a wrench stuck in their audial." Arcee pointed out, but her tone was missing the usual sarcasm.

The white mech smirked like he was considering it, "You wouldn't be able to hear what I have to say if I did."

"Spit it out." Seven snapped.

"You younger bots are so impatient…" Ratchet huffed.

"Please, deliver your speech, O wise and mighty Ratchet." My clone bowed with a level of sarcasm could've split rocks.

"Please, old friend." Optimus prodded.

The medic rolled his optics, "I still hardly believe this myself, but Soundwave took me captive aboard Megatron's warship after obtaining the resonance blaster. And without the young doctor here, I would have already been subjected to the tyrant's sick torture experiments."

"Knock Out, it seems we are indebted." Optimus stated solemnly, facing the other red mech.

"Why? Why did you help him?" Arcee asked, her tone more than threatening.

"I certainly wasn't planning on tagging along, that's for sure!" The red medic glared at the white one.

"Oh, quit whining." I rolled my optics.

"That's a first, coming from you!"

"Knock Out," the Prime rumbled, "if you do not answer our questions, we will have to use less pleasant means of extracting information."

The red mech huffed, "Starscream, Seven, were they as welcoming when you strutted over their threshold?"

"'Dragged over is better suited," my clone muttered.

"No one's making you stay." Arcee reminded cooly.

"Starscream, Seven? A moment, if you will?" Ratchet requested from the corner of the room.

"Just when it gets good." I muttered, trailing behind Seven. I could feel Knock Out's optics on my back as I walked away, and the conversation continued as if nothing had happened. Well, more of an interrogation, to be precise.

"What's up, doc?" Seven asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

I tried to inch away, back towards the other mechs and femme, but Ratchet glanced up and caught me. "Stay put. I am going to run a diagnostic of your systems, monitoring the virus' progress and so forth."

"What about Bulk–" My optics fell on the green mech. His chest plate looked as good as new, save for a bit of dust here and there. "That was fast." I remarked, impressed.

"The damage looked severe, but was a snap to repair." the medic explained.

"Just as long as everything's ticking under my hood," Bulkhead sat up only to have Ratchet push him back down.

"Some things, however, cannot be sped up." Ratchet stated. "Like allowing your chassis to rest so you don't strain yourself."

"C'mon, I'm missing the action!" The green mech protested.

"Likewise," I grumbled, and I saw Seven shared the same thoughts.

"An interrogation is hardly action." Ratchet countered, motioning for me to sit down opposite the medical berth Bulkhead laid on. I sat, grumbling nonsense beneath my vocalizer.

"Then why, pray tell, am I here?" Seven asked.

"Because neither of you are helping them and your presence would be counterproductive, being ex-Decepticons yourselves." he replied matter-of-factly.

"I never was, mind you. That would be Starscream." My clone reminded him, rolling his optics.

"Nonetheless, your similarities to Starscream give the same effect." The medic ran a handheld scanner over my midsection and up my chest plating.

"Does Megatron know where our base is?" Arcee snarled at Knock Out from the other side of the room, "Did he send you to scope out our location?"

"I already told you: I _rescued_ your precious medic! Without _my_ help, he would have been–"

"So I've been told." She replied hotly, and I turned my attention back to Ratchet as the scanner let out a harsh beep. He shut it off with a resigned sigh.

"How had I not foreseen this?" The white and orange medic moaned quietly to himself, as if expecting me not to hear.

"Foreseen what, exactly?" I whimpered, my tone already taking on an anxious edge. Seven ruffled his wings next to me, looking worried as well.

"As the virus spreads, and it has, it will adversely affect your systems. Fortunately, it hasn't made much headway. I've studied a few earlier samples a bit more closely, and now I can guess at what early symptoms might manifest as." He didn't even wait for a reply before continuing but I was too nervous and shocked to give one. "Minor system malfunctions, such as with core temperature control, glitches with motor functions–"

"Like, glitches with his thruster or engines?" Bulkhead wondered, clearly perplexed. Seven just watched our conversation with an unreadable expression. Considering he was my clone, that was a feat.

Ratchet sighed in mild annoyance and I wanted to. At times such as this, it was clear that the green mech wasn't the brightest bulb. "No, I am referring to his servos." The medic stated.

"'Least the doc's honest." Miko said.

I looked away, "I don't know if I want honesty right now. I've been pretending that this… this virus isn't an issue, but…" I trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Scream?" Jack asked.

"Don't call me that." I snapped quietly, but wasn't in the mood for pressing it further.

"Right," he apologized somewhat reluctantly, "but you can't put the blame on yourself for the fact that MECH used your T-Cog as the Trojan Horse."

"What?" Seven and I wondered in unison.

"You know," he ran his fingers through his hair, "a myth: the Greeks built a giant wooden horse as a gift to the people of Troy and hid inside of it, then jumped out after dark and conquered the city."

The other two humans nodded in understanding, and I got it too. In fact, it was a good analogy, provided one understood the content, obviously. But that didn't keep me from snapping back just to get him to shut up. "What does any of this have to do with myths and fragging wooden horses?!"

"I just thought… never mind," he wilted.

I wasn't sure when I noticed that the whole room was silent, including the interrogation, only that it had to have been several minutes.

Knock Out was the first to speak, turning to face us the best he could, "Might I ask what that's all about? You're all acting like someone's on their deathbed!" He chuckled, as if that was somehow, in any way, amusing.

Arcee shoved his shoulder plate, enough to get his attention but nothing more. "Show some sensitivity." That was the last thing I expected to hear from her.

"Wait, what? No, don't tell me…" he trailed off, fixing her and I with a light, disbelieving glare. She glared back. I scowled back at him, feeling my optics stinging. The red mech looked as though expecting someone to shout that it was a prank. In reality, the opposite was true; everyone was looking at him, expecting something completely different. I didn't know whether I wanted an apology or for him to simply leave. But the cuffs binding his wrists together made it apparent that he wasn't going anywhere in the near future. The red medic chuckled nervously.

"Knock Out," Ratchet's optics swept over him with blatant disdain, "you, _of all bots_ , should not consider this to be a laughing matter."

"I don't know what you're talking abo–"

Optimus, who had been silent all this time, cut him off. "Knock Out, Starscream is dying."

I winced.

He blinked, "That's absurd!"

"How can you be so dense?" I snapped.

"Any denser and he would be invisible," my clone spat.

"Please! You look fine!" The medic said defensively, shooting him a wry glare.

My tone became deathly quiet, "I imagine you remember MECH and their leader, Silas? As well as what they did to poor Breakdown?"

"How could I forget?" He answered bitterly.

Sated, I continued. "Well, Silas apparently learned a lot from him, and attacked this base with a duplicate Optimus."

"Nemesis Prime!" Miko chimed in, and I nodded.

"Yes, anyway, it clearly was meant for him to lose that battle, in turn to ensure the victory of a much greater one. He put up a fight, but in the end we bested him and took my T-Cog as the prize." I began to speak more rapidly, afraid that if I lost my momentum now, I wouldn't be able to start again. "We thought we had won, but they had implanted a virus in my T-Cog. But we had discovered it too late, and its symptoms are already beginning to affect me." I neglected to mention the fact that _he_ was the one who had salvaged my T-Cog, feeling it would be best not to pile up guilt on anyone, no matter how much I wanted to. And I wanted to. "Ratchet here has been able to glean enough information from a few samples, such as the fact that it isn't contagious, and that it will, in time, terminate me. T-that goes without question."

For once in his function, Knock Out was speechless.

* * *

I didn't need to be Starscream's clone to know to give him space. So when he turned and edged further away from us, I pulled my optics off him. Everyone else followed suit except Optimus, who walked over and sat next to him, murmuring words of comfort none of us could hear.

"Silas did leave us with two options, however grim." I finally announced, drawing all the others' attention on me. "The first: allow Starscream to die–" that suddenly brought on a quiet, choked noise from the Seeker and worried, sympathetic glances in his direction. I cleared my throat and continued, "and the second: deliver him to MECH for whatever they intend to do to him. But the upside of the latter, if there is such a thing, is that they would cure him before inflicting whatever sick experiments crawl into their little sadistic minds. Because they would prefer us to be alive to most likely get 'better results.'"

"Well, then why don't you just turn him over and then steal him back?" Knock Out asked, as if we hadn't all thought about that.

"We wouldn't have a chance," Arcee reasoned, "that would be the first thing they anticipate. We'd be playing right into their hands, and they would have a full house."

"I see." The red medic replied. Next to Optimus still and seemingly less distressed, Starscream yawned, wings fluttering as he watched our exchange.

"And," Ratchet added, "if he transforms into his vehicular mode it expedites the process."

"That can't get any darker, and it's night." Jack noted. Miko punctuated his words with a yawn, and Raf looked a bit tired as well. Starscream shifted next to Optimus on the edge of my vision and then the Prime gently rose to his pedes, holding the Seeker in his arms like a rag doll.

"Autobots, it is late. Bumblebee, please escort our guest to a cell. Arcee, Bulkhead, please take the children home. After that, go get some recharge." Optimus ordered, but it sounded more like a suggestion. He only received worried and startled looks back. The Prime looked down at Starscream, "He is fine, I surmise that the emotional strain and the hour of night have induced his recharge sequence." Relieved, everyone began to disperse for each of their tasks, save for the Prime and I.

"Seven." He nodded gently at me, his optics lingering for a moment. With Starscream still in his arms, he plodded away, presumably to let the Seeker rest and then go catch some recharge himself. It was tender, like my double was a sweet little sparkling that needed taking care of.

I watched him go, wondering if the next time a bot would hold him like that would be his last.

* * *

Some internal alarm went off, snapping me out of a dazed stupor. I squirmed, the cuffs that had almost become familiar over my wrists and ankles chafing into my armor. A few small points of data displayed in the corner of my vision showed that my core temperature read well over what it should have been, and I was shivering. Small spikes of pain wracked my frame with each spasm.

"Good, Starscream, you're awake." Silas said, scrutinizing me. "You've certainly seen better days. I thought some part of your processor had been damaged when we transported you here."

I bit my glossa, refusing to dignify his insult with a retort.

"You!" Silas pointed at a random soldier, "Go fetch me the cure, we don't want the subject dead yet." _The subject_. Oh, the nerve!

"You can't do this." I snarled, straining against my bonds, ignoring the pain in my wrists and ankles. "You can't! Stop! STOP!" I screeched, my voice changing from defiant to hysterical.

"Ah, but we can. And who is going to stop us? You certainly are in no shape to do so." Infuriatingly, he was right. I sagged back against the berth. I wasn't even sure what I would do if I got free; I was so weak I could barely lift my helm. Something sharp and tiny stabbed into my right arm.

"Cure administered." A soldier announced. I didn't feel any different, I still was shivering and my temperature soared. My fingers shook, which somehow didn't surprise me. Ratchet said that there would be glitches with my motor functions.

Silas nodded and turned to face me again, folding his hands behind his back, "Thank you in advance for your sacrifice to further our sciences, your contribution will help make great leaps and bounds for all of MECH and its technology. But I understand that you need time to recuperate, a time I am willing to wait patiently for. Until then, you will remain here, under constant surveillance."

"Why so eager to spill your guts to me now, when I can personally do it for you later?" I spat weakly.

"Did I forget to mention that insolence will not be tolerated?" MECH's leader stated calmly, and motioned at a soldier out of my line of sight. I was greeted with the sound of a pulse gun powering up, and then got the opportunity to experience the lovely sensation of being electrocuted for the second time.

I jerked awake, my screams from the phantom pain bringing everyone in the base running. A small part of me felt grateful that they cared and appreciated the support, but the rest just wanted them to leave.

Bumblebee burst into my room first, which bore as much resemblance to a room as the moon did the sun. Despite being more or less accepted by the Autobots, it still felt, and looked, like a cell. There were no windows, only a dim, unreliable light bulb in the ceiling, a berth that was a few feet too short and clearly not made for one with wings, and a gritty, concrete floor. When Ratchet had first shown me my quarters, I had demanded that they were to be cleaned. He gave me a withering look, left, and came back a minute later with a mop. That was my first lesson of being an Autobot: everyone pitched in, especially with the dirty work.

[What's wrong? Are you alright?] Bumblebee asked worriedly, pulling me off my train of thought. The other bots and femme followed short behind him, with Seven bringing up the rear.

"I suppose so," I sighed, scuffing a pede and ruffling my wings that were so close and yet so far.

* * *

"It was just a nightmare!" Starscream insisted, slamming his energon cube down and his wings flared up in frustration. "How many times must I repeat myself to get it through your thick helms?!"

"Enough is enough." I agreed, ruffling my wings.

"Ratchet, how's it coming?" Arcee asked, referring to the cure the medic supposedly was working on.

"Coming and going, the virus is complex." He reported from a workstation cluttered with papers and equipment. "Every time I think I've made progress, the virus mutates!" Starscream's fingers twitched and his wings sank at the news.

Optimus laid a servo on my double's shoulder plate, a habit he couldn't seem to shake. "Starscream, we will not rest until Ratchet finds a cure."

"Oh, we haven't heard _that_ one before." He replied sarcastically, pulling away and took a long drink from his cube in an obvious attempt to stall the conversation. The Prime's servo fell to his side.

"What if we enlisted Knock Out's help?" Arcee offered.

Ratchet snorted, making his disapproval clear. "The young doctor is hardly equipped to handle such a task, and even if he was, he's a Decepticon!" He exclaimed, looking up from his workstation to meet the Prime's optics, "And I don't care what you call him, he's still our prisoner! Besides, why would he want to help?"

Starscream and I exchanged a look.

"If you don't think him up to the task," my double explained slowly, "then make him your servant, if nothing else."

"I don't need to be a genius to know that his help could make this go twice as fast." Bulkhead added.

"He has a point there." Arcee reasoned. Bumblebee chirped in agreement.

But the final decision fell on Optimus' shoulders. "I see no harm in allowing the young doctor to work with you, old friend." The red mech smiled at the medic, who wasn't exactly smiling back. "However, we will keep him under constant watch."

"Lock and key would be nice as well," the medic grudgingly agreed.

* * *

Knock Out rushed to the bars of the cell, rattling them as I walked closer. "Starscream? What are you do–" he saw the red stripes on my wings and corrected himself. "Seven, let me out of here and I'll fix those horrendous stripes to something much more attractive!"

I ignored his remark. "If memory serves, in a similar situation, you once allowed me to escape, correct?"

"Equal yet opposite," he agreed.

I filled him on the points of our earlier discussion, saying that we had decided on enlisting his help.

"And in return?" He asked expectantly.

"Those cuffs might not become permanent." I answered, pointing at them. "And Starscream's chances double."

"I'm in."

"Congratulations," I smirked, "you're on parole." The lock on his cell's door clicked.

* * *

 **A/N: Seven deserves a round of applause for his nerd joke. Because all nerd jokes shall reign supreme.**


	11. 11 - Out of the Past

XI - Out of the Past

I tugged on the hem of my new tire tread patterned tee and glanced back at my mom and sister. "Ready?" Melody grinned and nodded excitedly, eyes bright. My mom looked just as eager, but in a more controlled way, a hint of wariness reflecting back at me behind her pupils.

I broke into a jog down our driveway, waving them along. "C'mon!"

My toes caught the back of Will's heels, tugging the back of his shoe off. He quickened his pace, glancing back at me with a slight frown. My mom followed behind us, awestruck as we jogged through the ground bridge portal and into the Autobot base. _Our_ base. Melody trailed behind her, a glance revealed my sister's mouth hanging open as we passed Bumblebee.

"Don't catch any stray flies." Will chuckled. The scout waved down at her amiably and deactivated the ground bridge. They had insisted on coming, I guessed curiosity had finally overwhelmed their sense of caution.

"As if we need more humans in the base," Starscream groaned good-naturedly, stepping out of the shadows.

"Those Decepticon habits die hard, don't they?" I smirked.

"Starscream?" My mom asked tentatively.

"That would be me." Seven drummed his fingers on the side of the platform to get her attention.

"In your delusional, small-minded dreams." Starscream hissed at him with the ghost of a smile.

Jack shook his head in silent laughter, "You both realize that every time you insult the other, you're just saying the same about yourself, right?" He quipped.

He earned a couple looks from the pair of Seekers at that smart remark.

Melody finally seemed to find her voice. "Giants…" her sparkling eyes fell on Starscream and Seven, "with wings!" she squealed, excitedly running over to Starscream. "Can you fly?"

All of us humans gave the jet a teasing, sympathetic look. "Yes, little human," Starscream purred, bending down to get right in her face, "so fast, you wouldn't believe." he poked her tummy gently with the tip of a talon that was so sharp he could've just as easily impaled her. She giggled. My mom looked well beyond nervous.

"Mel," she said worriedly, tugging on a strand of her chocolate colored hair, "how about you leave the nice robots alone for now?"

"Aww," my sister groaned back, turning around slowly and dramatically dragged her feet back over to our mother in the way only little kids can do.

"Seven?" Will asked, stooping over to tug his shoe back on, "Where're the–"

"Seven!?" Melody piped up, grinning with wide eyes, "I'm seven too!"

"No, you're four." I corrected, ruffling her hair.

"Shh, human," Seven crooned, lowering himself to get near her face, "or the giant robots are going to get you." He hissed, attempting to look scary. As in 'monster-under-your-bed-from-picture-books' type of scary.

Melody walked up and poked him in the optic. "Your feet are funny."

Bumblebee whirled in laughter as Seven jumped back in surprise, blinking rapidly out of reflex.

Starscream laughed, his wings vibrating. "I'll give her points for that."

"Sweetie, come here." My mom walked over to Melody, wisely tugging her away before tempers were tested.

"Where are the others?" Will asked again.

Bumblebee chirped and buzzed out a reply, and Raf translated for him as he went. "Optimus and Arcee are out doing recon, Bulkhead's scouting energon, and I'm sure Ratch is giving Knock Out an earful down in the cells, probably on where and where not to stick medical tools under Scream's hood."

"For your information, _Bee_ , I do not possess a 'hood.'"

The yellow scout rolled his optics as if to say "whatever."

Starscream's optics narrowed slightly, "So, why are you here, pray tell?" he addressed my mom. All of us were curious as well, watching her intently.

"Just to get acquainted." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Seems we picked a bad day for it."

"Well now that you've gotten yourselves acquainted," Starscream huffed, "you may leave."

"But I wanna stay!" Melody protested, stamping her foot. I would've blamed Starscream's irritability on the virus, were it not a part of his personality.

"Oh? Did we interrupt something?" My mother pressed.

"I'm dying from too much human exposure." Starscream drawled, melodramatically feigning a swooning fit. All heads and helms swiveled to turn to face him. Bumblebee chirped in surprise.

"At least he can make light of it." Miko sarcastically whispered to Jack and Raf behind her hand. Seven's striped wings twitched and his mouth plates thinned.

"Or it's messing with his helm already." Raf suggested.

The clone hummed lightly, "Indeed, today was not the ideal one for you to drop in."

"What exactly is 'it'?" My mom prodded cautiously.

"Nothing of importance to you." Starscream shook his helm gently, a strange expression coming over his faceplates. My mother still looked unsure, but let it lie. That was the last thing any of us expected him to say. Even Seven looked taken aback. Starscream always was the first to start complaining about anything, and the last to stop.

"Hey, you!" Melody piped up, pointing at Bumblebee and grabbing the yellow mech's attention. "Why're you not talking?"

Bumblebee whirled, looking slightly hurt.

"He… can't." Will explained awkwardly.

"It might be best for you to leave, we were just tracing an energon signal after all. My apologies for the less than warm welcome." Seven shrugged, leaning on the lever which activated the ground bridge. In truth, they weren't, being that Bulkhead was already scouting energon.

My mom flicked her hair out of her eyes, "It's fine. Can I get a picture?"

The three bots suddenly looked awkward. "Fine," Starscream said with the stiffness of a board, "so long as it doesn't find itself anywhere but on your satellite device."

A few small, white flashes of light later, she and Melody exited via the ground bridge. Will and I made no move to leave, along with the other three humans here.

"Don't you five have school?" Seven wondered.

"Not on the weekend, we get to spend all of it with the likes of you." Miko smirked.

"I'll join them." I said at once. I'd honestly spent too many hours with robots, if that was even possible.

"I'm coming too," Will added, "we can work on my car for class."

* * *

Silas watched as four humans exited a ground bridge in a park on the cusp of a small town in the corner of California so small and remote, he hadn't bothered to learn its name. He was satisfied, however, to learn that his new methods of predicting and then pinpointing where the so-called Autobots would use their portal technology were coming along well. Unlike the last few tries, this had worked like a charm. A sinister smile split his face that stretched his scars which lengthened beneath the dappling shadows of the forest; these people were certainly not very lucky today.

"Seize them," he ordered his squad of soldiers. "But use minimal force unless necessary."

The soldiers simultaneously nodded, then strode out of the woods on either side, surrounding Oliver, his mother Melody, and Will.

"What the–" Will gasped.

Silas stepped out of the shadows, "I don't believe we've formally met. I am Silas, and we are MECH."

"What do you want, Silas?" Oliver's mom hissed.

"We want the Transformer by the name of Starscream." The leader of MECH sneered. "And our efforts to obtain him have been slow moving. You four will speed things along nicely."

She opted to play dumb. "Transformer? Starscream? Are those some form of code words?" Her head cocked to the side, feigning genuine puzzlement.

Silas wasn't deterred. "So that's how it is. Then, if there is no Starscream, you don't have a ransom, now do you?"

"Ransom?" She echoed anxiously.

"Don't think so little of yourself," Silas chastised, "we shall see your worth soon enough."

"We're not going anywhere with you!" Oliver growled.

A soldier jabbed the muzzle of his pulse rifle into the boy's back. "I wouldn't." He warned.

"Don't!" Oliver's mother exclaimed, "Don't take my children! Take me instead!" She pleaded, struggling against the soldier who had her arms pinned behind her back.

Silas turned his cold, dark eyes on her. "That would be hardly logical, given that we already intended to take you in the first place."

Melody bit the hand of the soldier holding her. He released her shoulder in surprise and pain, and the girl ran to her mother.

"Run, Mel! Run!" Oliver's mother urged.

"I advise against it," Silas sneered, "on a person her size, an electric shock from these pulse rifles could very well be lethal."

"You monster!"

Silas chuckled, and a pair of soldiers grabbed her arms. Kicking and screaming, Melody tried to bite them again but this time they had firmer grips. The other three could only watch, helpless to do anything.

"We 'monsters' are the ones that keep the world turning, that is, so long as everyone runs from us. So go ahead, Melody, and see how far you make it." He nodded at his soldiers.

They released her arms. She bit her lip, looking unsure. Her mother shook her head. "I'm staying." She huffed, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Good girl," MECH's leader congratulated, like she was a puppy learning to perform tricks. "You made the right choice."

"You look like a freak!" She shot back, sticking her tongue out at the scars marring his face.

"Your cell phones." Silas ordered.

Oliver and his mother reluctantly pulled theirs out and tossed them at his feet. Will tugged his out of his back pocket at lobbed it at his face, "Catch."

To their surprise, Silas caught it and pocketed it along with the others. "Do not test me."

"There goes the picture." Oliver muttered.

"And I was just about to call the cops!" Will complained loudly, making sure the soldiers and their leader could hear him. He couldn't have, of course, the soldiers had his arms pinned behind his back. "You better not wreck my high score on Angry Birds or Clash Royale!"

* * *

The squad of soldiers roughly shoved them into a large cell while Silas watched, hands folded behind his back.

"Let me guess, all the five-star hotels were sold out." Will huffed sarcastically, brushing off his arms as they pulled their blindfolds off.

"I'm afraid so. Try to get comfortable." Silas' smirk was something one would never want to see on a dentist before pulling a tooth. He walked away, following the soldiers.

Oliver cupped his hands around his mouth, "HAVE FUN SLEEPING TONIGHT!"

His mother shushed him, pulling his arms down. "Don't!" She hissed.

"Same to you." MECH's leader replied cooly without turning to face them.

A few minutes later, Silas was alone in his "office," the light of his computer's screensaver spilling over him, shadows pooling in his scars. He grabbed one of the children's cell phones off his desk, activating it. He input a few buttons, then held it up to his ear. It rang no less than twice before he received a response.

* * *

I pressed a button on the main console's screen, annoyed. Seven hovered over my shoulder, "Who is it?" he asked me.

"What is it this time, Oliver?" I asked.

The voice that answered was cold, condescending, and much older, far from the one I expected. "Star _scream_ , have you no regard for your health? You should be in bed."

"Silas!" I exclaimed, "You better pray that I am the next time we meet, because the things I'm going to do to you–"

Seven shushed me, jerking his helm at the children on the platform and Bumblebee behind them, staring at their television screen. I lowered the comm's volume until it was nearly a whisper.

MECH's leader chuckled darkly, "All in due time. Hear from your human friends lately?"

"They are not my 'friends,'" I snapped quietly. My clone awarded me with a sarcastic nod. "… why?"

He tsked, "I thought you Autobots would keep better tabs on your humans than this, as they are currently in my custody."

"How!?" Seven gasped.

The leader of MECH ignored him, "Fortunately for you, I have a proposal. Turn yourself over and we will not only cure you, but allow your four… acquaintances to go free. Everyone wins."

"Four?" I was confused.

"Did I not mention the others? Oliver's family and Will, is it?"

"No!" Seven hissed quietly.

"You–have they been harmed?" I growled.

"Not yet. But Starscream," he said through a crackle of static, "what is the right decision?" The line went dead.

"Frag!" I spat, slamming a fist down onto the console. The screen flickered. "This is between us." I glared at Seven, making sure he understood.

"Was I going to tell anyone?"

"One cannot be too careful," I muttered, "we need to act fast, and the others would only be a burden."

"You're not going to surrender, are you?" Seven gasped. I glared at him some more. "Right."

"Not a word about this, to anyone!" I snapped feverishly, beginning to pace back and forth.

"I heard you the first time!" He shot back. "But how will we rescue them?" My clone's optics were tumultuous.

"You could make a diversion and I could sneak in and free them–"

"We don't even know their base's location!" Seven reasoned.

"Then we have to find it, don't we?"

"Of course we do."

Ratchet walked in from the hall, leading Knock Out behind him in a pair of cuffs. "What is going on here?" The old bot asked suspiciously.

Seven and I exchanged looks. "Nothing," my clone covered hastily.

"Oh? It sure sounded like something." He pressed. Knock Out simply stared at me, not even complaining about the long, thin scratch across his front. I faked a cough into my fist and he flinched. Seven cast me a sideways glance. I winked at him. A smirk ghosted his faceplates, so faint it might've been my imagination. But then it fell into a somber frown and he broke optic contact, unintentionally ruining the moment.

"So it's true then, isn't it?" The red mech breathed.

Seven glared at him, "Was last night not evidence enough for you?"

I looked to Ratchet pleadingly.

"All right, Bumblebee, Seven, please acquaint our 'guest' to his workspace. Starscream, come with me. I'd like to show you something." The white medic said.

"Why can't I come?" Knock Out challenged. Seven's wings twitched as if he was thinking the same thing.

Ratchet stopped, turning to face the other bot. "Unless you would rather play with your chemistry set in a cell…"

I heard Seven hiss to Bumblebee, "He was looking at me too! _Me_! And after all I've done for you…" Ratchet and I turned around a corner and his voice faded away.

We finally entered the section of our base housing the Iacon relics we had managed to recover from Decepticon servos. To my surprise, Bulkhead and Arcee stood in front of one of the doors. The green mech held it open while Optimus carried an armload of something glowing red over the threshold.

"That's the last of it?" Bulkhead affirmed, none of them seeing us just yet.

"Indeed." Optimus answered with a grunt as he lowered whatever-it-was into the storage vault. Clearly it had some weight to it.

"Shame that it is," Arcee said, "we could've really put that to use."

"Put what to use?" I queried, walking over to them.

"Bulkhead found a cache of red energon." Optimus answered, stepping out. Bulkhead smiled proudly, lowering the door.

"The 'Cons will never see us coming!" Arcee smirked.

Ratchet choked, "Did you say _red_ energon?!" Optimus motioned for us to look in through the small windows on the door. The medic and I ran over, nearly pressing our faceplates against the frosted glass to afford a better look.

My optics were met with glowing and unmistakably red hued energon. A massive chunk of the pure, unrefined crystals.

"An extremely rare and volatile form of energon," I breathed, optics wide in awe, "when processed into fuel, bestows hyperspeed upon the user." They all looked at me as if wondering how I had learned of that. "Or so I've been told." I added.

"Do not disbelieve it," Optimus said, "we must never allow this to fall into the servos of the Decepticons. At all costs."

"This very well might just turn the tide of this war," Arcee reasoned, "with the red energon and Apex Armor, you would be virtually invincible!"

* * *

"I would steer clear of this one altogether, Primus knows what–" I dropped the rather large saw I was showing to Knock Out as Starscream dashed into the main atrium of our base.

"Careful, Turbo." The red mech drawled.

Starscream faced the three humans, "Rafael, might you be able to pinpoint the location of MECH's base of operations?"

The boy set his controller down and straightened his shirt. "I might, if I had access to a government database… why?"

My double didn't answer him and instead looked at me. His optics and the determined smirk on his faceplates said enough.

* * *

 **A/N: Starscream has plans too.**


	12. 12 - New Recruit

XII - New Recruit

"This is what you humans call the information superhighway?!" I exclaimed, skimming through a _close encounters_ conspiracy website. "A trillion gigabytes of data, none of it useful!" The "useful" data I referred to was any sort of hint to the location of MECH's base. One would think they'd provide coordinates…

"Here, let me see." Raf offered, setting his laptop aside and came over to me, peering over my shoulder. I chuckled, scrolling through a list of images resembling clips from cheesy monster movies and people in bad costumes. "Wait!" He exclaimed. I clicked back through a few pictures, stopping on one of the yellow scout.

"Bumblebee, you really should be more careful." Seven suggested.

The scout buzzed out a halfhearted apology, watching as Raf darted back over to his laptop.

"I found it," he announced, pulling up the same website. "Okay, removing Bumblebee and replacing him with…" the computer's speakers suddenly let out small screeches.

"The tap dancing monkey strikes again." Jack chuckled, giving Raf a high five. I snickered quietly.

"Bumblebee sightings on the World Wide Web are no laughing matter," Ratchet frowned at us.

The comm unit on the computer I was using pinged.

"Who's that?" Jack asked.

"Oliver," I sighed, "he keeps calling me to speak of his field trip." That was the cover story my clone and I had invented to explain their absence. Thankfully, no one had questioned it so far. I bit my lip, not wanting to answer it but needing to.

Fearing the worst, I transferred the link to my personal channel, stepping away from the console. I walked off at a brisk pace in search of an area more secluded than the center of the silo, down an offshooting hall to be precise.

"Starscream, where are you–"

"I will be a minute." I replied hastily, glancing over my shoulder at the white medic.

I answered the comm once I was deep in a hall, away from prying optics, audials, eyes, and ears. "Starscream speaking."

My fears were confirmed as Silas answered, speaking what sounded like a set of coordinates. I memorized them without even trying. "So you offer yourself up on the right doorstep," he explained.

"What have you done to the humans?" I hissed.

His reply was cool and calculated, "Don't worry, it's less than I'm planning to do to you. But the food in the cells isn't exactly à la mode, so I would hurry if you value their well-being." A sneer had entered his tone, and the link cut out. Shaken, I dragged my pedes back into the main atrium of our base. Ratchet took one look and ordered me onto a med berth.

I gave the medic a stern look, "No. There are more important matters I must attend to at present."

"Oh, really now? And just what is more important to you than your very function? Enlighten us." Describing his tone as skeptical was like comparing a pebble to a mountain. My confidence eroded away beneath his glare and I shrunk away.

"Ah…" I looked to Seven, hoping he understood.

He appeared to, but simply didn't care. "I think Ratchet is right on this one." He didn't even try to look the least bit remorseful.

Fuming, I leaned back against the med berth. "I swear upon the Allspark, I'm fine!"

"Sure, you're only dying, but fine." Knock Out rolled his optics.

If looks could kill.

The Autobot medic swept a scanner over my chassis with a frown, "Your core temperature is a few degrees above the normal level…" he frowned some more, studying the device in his servo, "and appears to be slowly rising."

"Someone's got a fever." Miko crooned, crossing her arms.

I sputtered, "I do not!"

"You do, says your physician." Ratchet declared.

"Ooh, touchy, are we?" Knock Out purred, tugging against his cuffs.

"You stay out of this." I snapped.

"The best thing you can do for yourself at the moment is allow your chassis to rest," the white medic said stoutly.

"I believe Ratchet has the final say in this," Optimus agreed, "and your welfare is a priority. To all of us." He finished firmly, but there was an almost fatherly gentleness in his tone too.

 _What about Oliver, his family, and Will? What about_ their _welfare?_ I wanted to snap, but held my glossa instead and remained silent.

Looking into the Prime's sad optics slowly became too much to bear, so I pretended to comply with their wishes for the moment. I shuttered mine, slowly allowing my intakes to even while my processor raced. Sure, I did feel a tad warmer than usual, come to think of it, but not nearly as much as Ratchet had said. I suspected he had exaggerated it to sway the others to his side of confining me to a berth.

And I was furious that it was working.

Miko's voice dragged me out of my thoughts, "Does he always scowl that much in his sleep—recharge… whatever you bots call it?" She wondered from somewhere off to my left.

"No, not usually, but sometimes after Megatron gave him a good trouncing…" Knock Out trailed off, his voice much closer on my right. Mildly worried, I leveled my expression out a bit, still keeping my optics closed tight.

Finally, after much too long, it felt like all their gazes were diverted elsewhere. I cracked open an optic, confirming my suspicions. Optimus and Arcee watched the main console's screens over Ratchet's shoulder plates. Bulkhead was in the process of examining one of his blasters in my peripheral vision, and Knock Out had his back to me. Seven stood silently behind the Prime, arms crossed, studying me. Throwing caution to the wind, I opened both optics and winked at him. His widened, eyebrows raising.

* * *

I cast furtive glances at each of the others before my optics fell back on Starscream, making sure they weren't watching.

"We need to talk," he mouthed at me. I nodded slightly, glancing at Optimus standing next to me. When I looked back to my double, his optics were shuttered again.

"Wait, what's that?" Jack suddenly asked, pointing at the screen of Raf's laptop. The three humans, myself, and Bumblebee leaned in for a closer look. Raf zoomed in on a bright portion of a grainy photograph labeled "Mystery Meteor."

"A Cybertronian escape pod?!" The younger boy exclaimed.

"Here, in Earth's atmosphere?" Ratchet affirmed, surprised.

"Here, of all rocks." I added, glancing at Starscream. But the med berth that had been occupied a moment ago was vacant, and I didn't see him anywhere in the room. My tank dropped.

Raf put the image up on the main screens, biting his bottom lip. I could practically see his gears turning.

"Autobot, or Decepticon?" Arcee asked, examining the photo.

"It's impossible to tell, given the image resolution." Ratchet answered, attempting to enhance it from the console. I slowly began to creep away, off in search of my double. No one took notice, fortunately, their eyes and optics still glued to the screens.

I backed around a corner and disappeared from their view, walking smack into something. I yelped in surprise and a servo clapped over my mouth, effectively stifling it while dragging me backwards.

* * *

"In any event, this merits investigation." Optimus said, turning to face his fellow Autobots.

"It could be a trap." Arcee added grimly.

"An Autobot may be in distress. Ratchet, bring your medical kit." The Prime ordered.

"Optimus, are you sure it's wise to leave Sta–where is Starscream?" The medic looked worried.

"Beats me." Bulkhead shrugged.

"None of you saw him leave?" Optimus asked, looking around at each of them.

"Wait, Sev's gone too!" Raf exclaimed.

"Don't look at me," Knock Out said defensively. So, naturally, everyone did just that.

"Arcee," Optimus began, "perhaps then it would be best for you to remain here with the children and our guest." He suggested.

"And us three can go hunt for Scream and Sev!" Miko offered with unrivaled enthusiasm.

"But Optimus, with all due respect, shouldn't Ratchet stay behind?" The femme protested.

"Ratchet's medical expertise makes him a better choice for this mission, given that an Autobot may be in need of medical assistance." He countered.

"If the bot inside isn't one of Megatron's goons." She muttered beneath her vocalizer.

"If he is, we'll make sure he gets a warm welcome!" The Wrecker bashed his fists together.

Optimus held out a servo, "Bulkhead, we will treat them, whomever they may be, as a friend until proven foe."

"All right, all right," Bulkhead conceded, deflating.

"Well, one thing's for sure," Miko chortled, drawing everyone's attention, "we're cooler than Wonder Woman! We have two invisible jets!" Jack and Raf exchanged an exasperated look.

* * *

"Shh!" I hissed, looking around frantically to make sure we were alone.

I released Seven's helm. "What are you doing?" He whispered shrilly, optics panicked.

"Shut up!" I hissed again, listening intently. The little pitter-patter of human feet sounded behind us. "This way!" I scowled, tugging my clone into a side hallway. We crouched against a wall in the shadows, panting quietly.

"Starscream?" Jack's voice echoed, bouncing off the walls on its way to our audials. A flashlight beam swung around a corner, lighting up dust and cobwebs on the ceiling.

"S-Seven?" Raf called out nervously, his voice echoing less than Jack's had.

"D'yeh think that Scream's gone, like, rabid or something and taken Sev prisoner?" Miko hissed excitedly.

"Ugh, thanks for the image, Miko." Jack groaned. I gave Seven a wry look, which he didn't quite return. The trio turned a corner and were gone, their voices fading away.

My clone hummed quietly, "Doesn't sound far from the truth." I punched him. "Hey!"

I growled, "That was uncalled for."

"Of course it was," he muttered, "why are we here?"

"I know the coordinates to the location of MECH's base!"

* * *

Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Optimus exited the ground bridge in a line, blasters at the ready. The yellow scout walked forwards first, blasters raised and trained on the escape pod. It had left a path of destruction in its wake. Mud mixed with a long, thin pool of energon that had spilled from the pod's tank as it crashed. Trees were ploughed over or tilted sideways at steep, dangerous angles.

"This is the place, all right." Bulkhead said quietly.

Bumblebee transformed one of his blasters back into a servo, sweeping off a layer of grit hiding a faction's shield.

"It is of Decepticon origin." Optimus announced.

"Looks like the 'Con inside blew his way out." Bulkhead added as his optics scanned the pod's ruptured hull. Suddenly, the red plasma of blaster fire began to rain down upon them from the forest.

* * *

"How?!" I gasped, my wings flaring up.

"That's not important," Starscream replied, "but I have a plan… a plan to free the humans and steal the cure." He smirked avidly.

"Let me guess," I began, "I shouldn't disclose this to the others?"

"You read my mind."

A few minutes of sneaking around and looking over our shoulder plates later, we arrived at the vault housing the red energon.

" _That's_ your plan!" I exclaimed, "We don't even have the resources to process it into fuel without the other Autobots' knowledge–and who knows how volatile it is!"

"Ah, but forbidden fruit is always the sweetest." he sighed, "And I'm fool enough to think that you, of all bots, would understand." I glared at the wall, he had me there.

I fluttered my wings, refusing to let my resolve slip, "Which is precisely why I am trying to put a stop to this futile endeavor." He didn't seem to hear me, a fevered look of determination entering his optics. I felt a sharp pang of anxiety, wondering just how sick he was at present. Had the virus already started to addle his processor? "Primus knows what the red energon will do to your systems–"

"If this is about the virus, save it," he spat fervently "I've been hearing you bots worry over that in my slagging recharge."

"Besides," I continued, "even if it is safe, we can't process it into fuel, and I imagine chewing on rocks wouldn't prove effective enough."

Starscream threw the door open with a heave, "We do possess the resources to process the energon in secret, my dear clone."

I shook myself and blinked, "You don't mean the _Harbinger_?"

"I do."

* * *

The Autobots returned fire on the five Vehicons and a pair of Insecticons that seemingly had materialized from the surrounding forest. Both factions had fanned out, making themselves smaller targets and sought shelter behind trees, scrub, or boulders. The ones who picked the latter were better off.

"All those 'Cons came outta one pod, huh?" Bulkhead wondered skeptically, ducking behind a boulder to dodge a blaster shot to his helm. Next to him, Bumblebee landed a shot on a Vehicon's chest plate and he crumpled to the ground, his front coughing out smoke.

"Humans refer to the phenomenon as a clown car!" Ratchet shouted back, transforming out his surgical blades. An Insecticon flew in from above the Vehicons and transformed, landing heavily. He began to trade blows with Optimus, but the Prime didn't waste time fighting him. He shot the pair of Insecticons in their helms without a second's hesitation, swiftly dispatching them.

Without warning, more blue plasma joined the mix from behind the four Autobots. They each glanced back, seeing a white mech with blue highlights charging at them, blaster raised.

"Incoming!" Bulkhead shouted, raising his blasters at him. Bumblebee followed suit next to the green mech.

"Friendly!" The unfamiliar mech shouted, door wings jouncing as he vaulted over a boulder and onto a Vehicon. He took out another with a shot from his blaster before being forced to seek shelter from the rain of red plasma behind a large boulder. The four other Autobots stepped back in shock as a stray shot from his blaster hit the pool of energon in the wake of the pod, igniting it. Unnaturally blue flames danced over its surface.

"Fall back!" Optimus commanded, already turning away. The five mechs turned and ran, a massive explosion of blue fire licking at their heels. When the dust and smoke had mostly cleared, they were met with blue tongues of flame curling around what was left of a few very charred trees and shrubs.

The white mech stood atop a boulder, pumping his fist with a grin on his faceplates. "Ha! Too hot for ya, 'Cons?"

"Friend of yours?" Ratchet asked Bumblebee. The scout shrugged, raising his servos.

"He's white enough all right, but he ain't Jackie." Bulkhead sounded disappointed.

The mech spoke up, "Torching that energon leak, pretty good plan, right?" He puffed out his chest plate pridefully.

"Except that it wasn't your plan." Ratchet countered, stepping up to him. "It was the result of a reckless shot that could have just as well terminated us all!"

The mech refused to be in the wrong, "Worked out, didn't it?"

"Thank you, fellow Autobot." Optimus interjected before Ratchet could build up more steam, seeing the Autobot shield on his chest plate. He spun around, facing the Prime. "Your… valor is to be commended."

The white mech gawked up at him, speechless. "I–don't believe it! You're Optimus Prime!" he looked at the others, pointing, "He's _Optimus Prime_!"

"We know." Bulkhead said.

"Yes, yes." Ratchet sighed. Bumblebee buzzed in agreement.

"What is your name, soldier?" Optimus asked, planting his servos on his hips.

"Smokescreen, sir!" He saluted the Prime, blue optics glittering with barely contained excitement.

"Welcome to Earth, Smokescreen." Optimus offered his servo.

"It's an honor to be here," Smokescreen said as he clasped the Prime's servo with both of his, "especially with you." he added eagerly.

Bulkhead rolled his optics, "Oh, brother."

* * *

I had filled my clone in on some of the finer details to my plan as to how we would infiltrate MECH's base as we stood in front of the massive chunks of the glowing red energon.

He held up a fistful of the scarlet crystals, plus a little bit extra, just in case. "Do you really think this is enough?"

"Let's hope, seeing as we cannot swipe more without them taking notice." I answered grimly and pulled the remote control for the ground bridge out of a gap between my thigh plating, activating it.

Seven saw me pull it out. "Of course you hold that in reserve, never allowing anyone to use it but yourself." He grumbled, playing catch with the chunk of red energon.

"Have you not used it plenty in the past? Off you go," I urged, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.

He trotted through the portal with considerable amounts of complaints about how this still was a dangerous idea; one just as volatile as the crystals he carried. I had other ideas, sprinting off down the hall to another vault and snatched a relic up off its respected pedestal.

"What took you?" Seven asked impatiently a moment later, setting the chunk of energon on a desk inside the _Harbinger_. I threw a switch on the ground bridge remote, closing the vortex.

My reply was throwing the Apex Armor at him. He caught it out of reflex, examining its edges in awe.

"Why did you–?"

"Don't you know? A good hero always needs a sidekick." I grinned at him.

"Oh please!" He snapped indignantly.

"Sidekick, I think some redecorating is in order. Care to speed things along?" I smirked at him. He shot me a glare, setting the Apex Armor aside. I reclined back in a chair, the superior smirk still on my faceplates as I crossed my pedes up on a desk.

Seven set the red energon on top of the device which processed it into liquid fuel. A whole minute passed before the first drop even fell.

"We'll be here a week," my clone groaned. I frowned at it, unable to agree more.

* * *

"Now what?" Ratchet wondered, looking to Optimus. "It's not like we can just bring him back to base."

The Prime mulled the prospect over for a moment before speaking, "I see you received your training from Cybertron's Elite Guard." Optimus pointed to the shield indicating so on the mech's shoulder plate.

"True enough," Smokescreen agreed, "but it wasn't much more than a boot camp by the time I joined. I never even got a proper graduation ceremony!" he groused.

"There is a war going on, you know, hotshot." Bulkhead frowned at him.

The white mech was on the defensive, "Hey, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier, to serve the Autobot cause!" he shot back. "But what I got was security duty at Iacon."

"The Hall of Records, of all places?" Ratchet said skeptically. "Optimus, do you not find this highly suspicious?"

The Prime faced the white and blue mech, new authority permeating his tone. "Smokescreen, what was your assignment inside the Hall?"

Smokescreen didn't even hesitate, "Guarding Alpha Trion during what turned out to be the final days of the war," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Optimus looked mildly surprised, "You served under the Master Archivist?"

"Eh, I wasn't psyched at first, watching the back of an old 'Bot instead of kicking 'Con tailpipe!" He exclaimed, pounding a fist into his other servo. But then he wilted beneath the others' stares, "Sorry." he apologized awkwardly, "But the Big 'A' turned out to be a great teacher, and a true friend. I mean, he was the one who petitioned Halogen and the high council to make you a Prime!"

Optimus scrutinized the mech standing before him, searching for any signs of deceit. Finding none, he opened a comm patch to their base. "Rafael, open the ground bridge."

"On it, Raf's busy." Arcee replied on the other end. The link cut out.

"That's it!" Bulkhead exclaimed, "That's all you need to hear before tossing him keys to the base!?"

"If my former mentor shared this information," the red mech countered, "it is because he considered Smokescreen to be a trusted ally."

The Wrecker conceded with a grudging huff. "As long as the newbie learns his place."

* * *

I walked back through a ground bridge portal and into the base ahead of Starscream, not wishing to give him any more reasons for him to call me "sidekick" again.

"Where were you two?" Arcee asked accusingly. "The children have been combing the halls for almost an hour!"

"Time certainly does fly in your world, doesn't it, Arcee?" I jested.

"Word of advice," she growled at me, "watch what you say, or someone might clean your clock."

"And mine's already shining." I grumbled beneath my vocalizer. "Megatron made sure of that awhile ago."

"I could–" Knock Out tried to say before we cut him off.

"Stay out of it." The femme and I spat in unison.

"Pfft," he huffed, "there's hardly enough room in this excuse for a base to move, much less voice one's own thoughts."

But we never learned just what his thoughts were, being interrupted by a ping on the console's comm.

"Rafael, open the ground bridge." Optimus requested from the other side of the the link.

"On it, Raf's busy," came the femme's reply. She switched the link off, facing us again.

Her optics fell on my double. "Starscream, are you alright?" She asked in a noticeably gentler tone. I perceived for the first time that he had been uncharacteristically silent even before we left the _Harbinger_.

Starscream seemed to rise out of a stupor, "What?–yes, I think so." He visibly shivered.

"I don't believe that for a minute," Knock Out said adamantly as Arcee pulled down the lever activating the ground bridge, "C'mon, drag your sorry aft over here." The medic encouraged lightheartedly, the utter opposite of how I felt.

Starscream walked over to him, rolling his optics and shaking his helm as if Knock Out's inspection was totally unnecessary. Sporadic shivers ran through his frame, saying the opposite.

A telltale green glow a second later announced the opening of a ground bridge behind us. I tried to amuse myself by looking for missing limbs as Optimus strode out of the vortex first, followed by Ratchet, Bulkhead, then Bumblebee, and a white and blue mech I'd never seen before in my all my function. I stepped out of sight and next to Starscream and Knock Out, a bad feeling in my tank. We all exchanged tacit looks, seeing the Autobot insignia in the center of his chest plate. Things could turn ugly if he recognized us as Decepticons before someone offered an explanation as to why we were here, instead of sulking aboard Megatron's warship.

"The newbie's called Smokescreen." The green mech jerked a thumb back at him.

"He isn't our prisoner then?" Arcee confirmed.

"The Big 'O' said I'm good to go!" Smokescreen glanced eagerly up at Optimus, who met his optics. The white mech cleared his throat awkwardly, hanging his helm. "Sorry, too friendly, sir."

"Sir?" The femme shook her helm in silent laughter.

The Prime laid a servo on the white mech's shoulder plate—a habit he seemed quite fond of, "Optimus will suffice, soldier." Something that could have been described as amusement sparkled in the depths of his optics.

The three children chose that very moment to jog into the room, panting. "We couldn't find them," Jack puffed and ran a hand through his hair anxiously, clicking his flashlight off.

"I'm not surprised," Ratchet said sarcastically, depositing his medical kit on a table near the three of us. He glanced at Starscream and I for a millisecond, as if expecting us to come out from behind the wall in front of the med berth where we were hiding. I shrugged at him, my wings fluttering lightly, and brought on a glower from Knock Out as one of them smacked him in the faceplates.

"Whoa, are you the new guy?!" Miko exclaimed excitedly, dropping her flashlight in a frenzy to dash over to him. Smokescreen didn't seem to know how to reply, watching her with a mixture of shock and confusion on his faceplates. "We haven't had somebody new here since Starscream and Seven!" She bounced on the balls of her feet and I vaguely wondered for a moment about her average sugar intake.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Knock Out grumbled behind me, softly enough to ensure his audials didn't register it.

"Last I checked, you were still our prisoner." I smirked at him.

"Don't insult human food." said my double.

I was about to point out that most humans probably didn't eat such a thing, but Knock Out spoke first. "Oh, the injustice!"

"And they call _me_ dramatic." Starscream rolled his optics. Ratchet shot us a look that screamed "SHUT UP" louder than a fifty-foot tall sign with neon lettering ever could hope to.

Miko continued as she bounded up the platform steps, oblivious to our hushed conversation. "What's your story, Smoke? Where'd you come from? How'd you get here? How many blasters you packing?!" She grinned up at him next to Jack and Raf. I suddenly wanted to punch something, knowing that Oliver and Will weren't here. They were probably locked in a cell in the belly of MECH's base… or worse.

"So…" Smokescreen looked disappointed, "these are the life forms we're supposed to protect? Are they all like–wait, did you say _Starscream_?!" His optics widened and focused on Miko with a newfound intensity.

"Why? You two pals or something?" She accused, like he was off-limits.

His features contorted in disgust and his servos clenched, "No way! But he's _here_?! I've heard stories about that stiletto-heeled creep back on Cybertron! Slimy little freak who'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants."

My servos balled into fists, and I saw that Starscream's had too.

Optimus frowned, "Then it would be best for you not to meet him at this time."

At that, Starscream stepped into his field of view, positively seething. "I disagree!" He snapped, visibly shaking. It was impossible to discern whether it was from outrage or the virus—probably both. All our optics, eyes, in the humans' case, were glued him in stunned silence as he stalked towards the new mech, each step more unsteady than the last. The jet finally stopped in front of Smokescreen. "Call me a stiletto-heeled creep again, I dare you!"

"You must be Starscream!" he exclaimed contemptuously, "Funny. I thought you'd be taller." My double glared at him with pure hatred and drew an arm back. The white mech took a few nervous steps away, "Easy–!" he exclaimed. Starscream stalked closer with mad optics, but then shuddered and stumbled, falling to his knees. A web of whitish-blue electricity crackled through his frame and I gasped and hurried over to help as his legs buckled and he wound up on the floor, wings hanging limply over his chassis. Electricity shot through his chassis again, fizzling out at the end of his left wing, the one hiding his faceplates. Optimus was at his side in an instant, half carrying, half leading the poor mech away from a baffled Smokescreen as the white mech watched with wide optics.


	13. 13 - New Recruit II

XIII - New Recruit II

" _If you're talking wheels,_ _bring 'em on!"_ Smokescreen remembered having said to Optimus after the Prime had explained how he would have to acquire an "Earth-based vehicle mode." The white mech now regretted his prior enthusiasm after seeing what his meager options were. A perfect example of this was a small, bland white car that rolled down a freeway below a rocky outcropping where he and Jack laid side-by-side. They both watched as scant traffic passed by beneath them in the light of the setting sun, looking for something that would hopefully appeal to the white mech.

He shook some feeling back into his door wings as the drab car drove away, engine noise fading with each passing second. "Nope."

"How about… that one?" Jack looked to a flatbed truck puttering away on the other side of the concrete median between oncoming traffic. It had rusted so badly around the edges that one might think it would fall apart in a heap of plating and coils at any second.

"Eh, it's more Ratchet speed, don't you think?"

"Cement truck?"

"Yeah, if I were a Constructicon." He looked at the human, "Seriously? This is the best your planet has to offer?"

Jack sighed, propping himself up on one elbow. "No, but this is Jasper."

"I feel for you."

They watched car after plain car pass beneath them before the white mech spoke again, this time with a note of caution in his tone that hadn't been there before.

"So… what exactly is wrong with him?" Smokescreen looked to Jack. They both knew who the "him" was… but his name felt like taboo at the moment. The human shrugged—a feat when being propped up on one elbow—trying not to make it seem like a big deal as more cars passed them on the roadway below.

He continued, "I mean, I know he's _Starscream_ and that he's probably knocked a few gaskets loose in that helm of his," he banged a fist against his own to demonstrate, "but seriously? He looked overcharged."

"What?"

"You know," the white mech explained, pretending to guzzle energon and twirled a finger around the side of his helm.

"You mean drunk?" Jack said, baffled. "I didn't even know Cybertronians could get, well, intoxicated–"

"High grade energon can do it, but the stuff's been pretty scarce since Cybertron went dark."

The human didn't press him further, brooding on the new information.

Smokescreen looked as though a new thought had struck him, "And c'mon, he wasn't even chained up–"

"Okay, listen, Smoke." Jack began testily. "Times have changed. Scream's on our side now."

"Good one!" Smokescreen laughed, "But I've heard enough about him to tell that he only cares about himself, and–"

"Well, that's a lie."

"He's a good liar too," the white mech added as an afterthought.

"Maybe," Jack grudgingly agreed, "but I know he trusts us. He's done so much for our cause–"

"Is that right?" Smokescreen challenged. "I know reputation alone that he never sticks his neck cables out for anyone but himself; he's got a yellow streak that goes for light-years!"

"Why else would he put his life in our hands?" The human shot back.

Now the white mech looked confused and a bit uncomfortable. "What're you saying?"

Jack sighed, not believing how many times he had to spell out the same thing to the bot. "Look, MECH―a terrorist organization obsessed with 'radical tech'―somehow engineered a virus and put it inside Starscream's T-Cog. The bot's really sick."

"And it's killing him?"

Jack looked down, his gaze drifting from car to truck to car on the freeway far below them.

"Serves him right," the white mech huffed, looking out over the horizon with contempt, "after all, he was Megatron's SIC, his right-hand mech, and the thing's he's done…"

"Maybe, but not like this." Jack frowned in thought, "Just watching him fade like this… I mean, what would Optimus say?"

"Right, my bad. But–"

"Starscream isn't the bot he was," the human insisted, "and if we had to choose between him and you, we'd take him every time."

Smokescreen finally seemed to get it, "I'm sorry."

"Ratch and Knock Out are still working hard at finding a cure, so don't rule him out just yet." Jack encouraged.

"Wouldn't bet on it." The white mech gave him a slight smile.

Suddenly a sports car shot past beneath the pair, going at least ninety on the freeway past a sign which read SPEED LIMIT: 65. Smokescreen grinned.

* * *

I wasn't even able to hear myself think over the loud, shrill whine that I suspected were my audials ringing, let alone the conversations going on above me. All of the other Autobots stood above me, including Arcee. It was funny because I couldn't remember falling over, but they still towered up above me, forcing my memory to kick itself. I vaguely wondered if someone had used the shrink ray on me… but I didn't feel any smaller. And they weren't _that_ far above me.

Ratchet's helm came closer in my blurred vision, followed by his servo holding something just out of my line of sight. But it was very white, and very, very bright. He kept shining it in my optics, and his mouth was clearly moving, but no sound came out. At least, none I could hear over the ringing.

Optimus ducked out of my view towards what I guessed were the consoles, and a moment later the ringing in my audials abated to a dull buzz.

"His pulse rate is stable," I heard Ratchet's voice say as if it was from the other end of a long tunnel.

"Intakes?" Knock Out asked from somewhere.

"Shaky, but regular."

"Temperature?"

I shuttered my optics, not wanting to hear more. Unfortunately, that action had no effect, being that my optics sensed light, while my audials picked up sound. But this simple action brought an assault of excited jabbering upon my audials.

The white light reintroduced itself above me and I blinked several times, feeling my thoughts come into clearer focus along with my surroundings.

Ratchet shone the light in my optics again, "Starscream? Starscream?! Can you hear me?" He prodded the side of my helm, looking extremely worried.

I blinked again, looking at the light he held as if registering it for the first time. "Point that thing somewhere… ugh, somewhere else, will you?"

The medic breathed a sigh of relief and the others' postures relaxed somewhat. I looked around at all of them, the mixed expressions on their faceplates. My gaze lingered on Seven's.

His wings twitched, "You–you fell and Optimus caught you," his voice was quiet but thick with anxiety. The frequent tic in his wings was a dead giveaway. I, on the other hand, didn't feel anything at the moment other than a strong desire to ignore them all and enter the sweet bliss of recharge.

"Your core temperature is eight degrees above where it should safely be," Ratchet held a scanner reading just that in front of my helm to prove his point.

"Doc sure knows how to pile on the optimism." Bulkhead said dryly.

"Wha–" my voice came out much raspier than usual. I cleared my throat, trying again, "What is the virus doing to me?"

The medic and Prime exchanged a glance, "It has corrupted some of the programming controlling your fans…" Ratchet trailed off.

"Which explains the high fever." Arcee finished.

"Now that you're more alert," Optimus said, "it would be best for you and Seven to have a civil conversation with our new recruit. He turned to the medic, "Ratchet, can you locate his coordinates?"

"Optimus are you sure that now is the best time?" He jerked his helm at me.

"I can hear you." I said dryly.

The Prime opted to ignore me, "Nothing changes if we wait, and tempers will only continue to rise."

"No time like the present," Bulkhead added.

Ratchet sighed with blatant disapproval, "I can. In fact, he's–"

I jerked up into a sitting position on the med berth, finally registering what had been said. "NO!" My clone and I snapped in unison.

"He's on his way now." The medic finished, looking me over again. No sooner than he had breathed the last syllable, the growl of an engine sounded in the tunnel leading out of our base. It slowly turned into a roar and headlight beams swept over us. Following the light, a blue and white sports car drove in and drifted in circles, engine revving and brakes squealing. Its headlights flashed again before it came to a stop. Jack sprang out the passenger side, staggering a bit before straightening up.

"That was awesome!" He exclaimed, laughing, "Smokescreen, you're insane!"

The car transformed and said mech stood before us. He bent down, giving Jack a high-five with a grin plastered to his faceplates.

"All the vehicles on this planet, and he picks one with screaming double thirty-eights on the doors!" Arcee shook her helm, not even trying to mask her disgust.

"Seems like no one defined 'low profile' for him." Bulkhead huffed.

"Hey, what more do you want? I got my new treads!" The white mech protested. I slid my legs off the berth, glaring at him all the while.

"Here we go," Ratchet muttered.

Smokescreen crossed his arms, any ghost of playfulness gone from his features as he met my optics. "Bring it."

I stood and immediately every bot in between the white mech and I stepped out of the way, save for Seven, who came and stood next to me, willing to offer support. I frowned at myself, feeling weaker than I expected but less than I feared. And I wasn't shaking anymore, which was also a plus.

"Smokescreen–"

"What's your problem?!" He stomped over to me and I forced myself to hold my ground, even while every line of programming in my processor screamed otherwise. Seven had already backed up several paces in my peripheral vision. _Thanks for the support_ , I thought angrily.

"Oh, _my_ problem, is it?" I growled, jabbing him in his chest plate. "You're the one who thinks he can just strut in here and be accepted by everyone with open arms and sparks!"

"Says you! You're the one who terminated Cliffjumper, right? Why did they–" he waved at all the other Autobots, "even think of letting you jump aboard after that?!"

Arcee stared at me with an unheard of intensity, it wasn't quite a glare but somehow worse at the same time. I shifted my gaze to my pedes after it started to make my helm throb… or maybe that was just the pounding of my spark.

I looked back up and glowered at him, knowing this question was going to crop up at some juncture. "For your information, _Smoke_ , that is water under the bridge."

The femme's servo tightened into a fist in the corner of my vision. "Oh, is it? You never said you regretted terminating him–much less even offered an apology!"

I realized I hadn't done either of those things at the same time. "I—ah…"

"See! He can't even say 'sorry'!" Smokescreen snapped, pointing aggressively at me.

Optimus broke in, "Autobots, as we will forgive Starscream for his past misdeeds, we shall not forget them. Our prior actions shape who we are, but our choices in the present will reflect who we shall become, whether for good or ill. We all have done terrible things in this war, which is why we work so hard to end it."

"I'm sorry." I whispered, helm hung low.

"Sorry, can't quite hear you over your ego." Knock Out quipped.

* * *

"I know," he moaned quietly, "I'm the reason he's not here today… among so many others that I've lost count. I-I-I just don't know how much longer I can do this… this senseless fighting… and for what? What am I gaining from this, what do we all get out of this war when it's over?!" He choked, looking to me. I came over and sat beside my double, trying to give him a reassuring smile. But it flickered when yet another crackle of whitish electricity jolted through his frame.

"When it's over," I said, "some mechs are going straight to therapy."

"HA!" Knock Out guffawed.

He glared at me, "You just said that to shut me up, didn't you?"

"It worked, did it not?"

Arcee drummed her fingers impatiently on a table, "Sorry to derail the drama-coaster," she said without the slightest hint of remorse, "but _I_ enjoyed listening to this."

"Of course _you_ would." Starscream muttered beneath his vocalizer, or so I guessed. It came out as a whimper.

Optimus came and sat down on the other side of Starscream, who had now tucked his helm beneath his arms and in between his knee plates. His slight chassis shook with sobs now, smaller, sporadic bursts of electricity running through him every now and then. "Optimus, I don't wanna die… I don't–" he sniffed, "just take me to MECH… I can't-I can't do this anymore." He looked up, optics slightly glassy. I cautiously rested a servo on his thigh plating, startled to feel that he was burning up. _Figures, high fevers can make anyone loopy._

I bit my lip, unsure of what to do. So I leaned over and whispered in his audial, "If you think we're just going to give up on you, you could not be more wrong." Starscream showed no signs of registering my words.

"No one is taking you to MECH for whatever sinister things they would inflict upon you." Optimus said firmly. "Ratchet _will_ find a cure, and we _will_ save you."

The other Seeker didn't look reassured at all, if anything, he seemed even more downcast.

"What would you do if you weren't sure you'd be alive tomorrow?" He asked broodingly in a hushed whisper, lowering his arms and legs while his wings raised to about a halfway point.

"I'd try to do everything on my bucket list," Miko piped up and began to tick things off on her fingers, "dune bashing with Bulk, skydiving–"

"I'd do random acts of kindness." Raf said. "Like giving a stranger flowers, helping someone with their groceries, or walking an old lady across the street."

Bumblebee chirped in approval. The others looked like they agreed as well. Smokescreen stood forgotten on the fringe of the group, looking as though he had just attended a funeral. Starscream looked at me as though he'd been the one in the casket.

"I would slagging make sure those kids come back." I whispered to him.

His optics slowly widened, a new spark of something kindling inside of them that hadn't been there before. I wasn't sure what it was, hope, determination, fervor, rage, or some combination thereof. Perhaps it was just a renewed thirst for revenge, but I knew he hadn't given up yet.

"Seven," he said, "what would we do without you?"

"That's why I'm here."

Starscream took a deep intake and stood. "You know what? You're right." His wings twitched, "Let's."

I nodded at him in understanding while everyone else watched us with confusion. "It is for the best…"

"I do not understand," Optimus looked at Starscream with a tinge of worry in his optics.

I cocked my helm at him, "That's how we want it." With that, I transformed and rocketed out of the base, my double chasing after me on pede.

"No!" Ratchet gasped, and tried to stop us but we were already gone. I transformed and landed in a controlled slide, using my talons to slow myself against the floor. Starscream ran into the hallway from around a corner and sagged against a wall.

"You shouldn't have ran," I rebuked worriedly.

"A little late," he huffed, and pulled the ground bridge remote out from between his thigh plating. He opened a bridge, just as a storm of heavy, running pedfalls drew closer.

"Hurry!"


	14. 14 - The Human Factor

XIV - The Human Factor

Starscream tucked the ground bridge remote back into the gap between his thigh plating as the portal closed behind us. We were once again in the _Harbinger_ , but this time met with the red energon instead of a pair of noisy, smelly humans. And we were about to go use the stuff to get back said noisy, smelly humans. I guess what goes around comes around.

I bent down, looking through the glass and up into the tube where the processed liquid fell, baffled that there weren't more. The few drops of refined red energon that had collected at the bottom of the glass container last time had increased to fill about a whopping sixteenth of the glass.

"That's it?!" Starscream exclaimed, walking over a bit unsteadily and plucked it off its stand. "An entire chunk of red energon, and _this_ is all I get!"

"There's enough there for one dose," I pointed out, frowning at it.

He immediately whipped out the remote control for the ground bridge and input a new set of coordinates—the location of MECH's base. The green glow of a vortex greeted us once again a second later.

"So soon?" I asked as he uncapped the red energon and tipped it back, only having to swallow once.

"Try to keep up." He grinned back at me, optics looking a bit glassy. I suddenly had second thoughts. I shouldn't allow him to even be out of the base with the state he was in, but it was too late now. He had the red energon in his system, and it would take its course. I gulped.

I stabbed the Apex Armor's spike into the center of my chest plate, and a moment later I stood taller than my double. "You make a distraction," he instructed, "I'll get the humans and the cure. Who knows when this kicks in–" Suddenly he became a blur, and a grey streak raced in circles around me then through the ground bridge. I gaped with astonishment as he vanished into the portal, and then followed without hesitation. Now _that_ was what I'd call fast. My jet mode wouldn't even be able to beat him, even if he was on pede!

I stepped through the portal, not even remotely liking the idea of being a distraction. So why not try to wreak as much havoc as possible along the way? I grinned at the thought; oh, MECH's base and I were going to be having a very fun time indeed.

* * *

The red energon was like nothing I've ever felt before. Imagine if the world decided to slow down so drastically that one could count the seconds it took for a lightning strike to arc through the sky. Or fire a shotgun and then go and catch all the bullets long before they reached their target. Or even, well… one would get the idea.

I felt invincible. The virus felt a lifetime away, and for we Cybertronians, that could be a number with several commas in it. I had to admit, although I wasn't as old as Ratchet, or even Optimus, mine did.

When I exited the ground bridge portal, I didn't even bother waiting for Seven. I strutted straight through MECH's front door and smack into the middle of their goings-on for the day. Breakdown's offlined chassis hung suspended from the ceiling against the far wall of the room. Silas stood on a platform, issuing instructions to the workers below, who were in the process of welding two sheets of metal together.

"I was wondering what happened to him," I muttered while looking at Breakdown's chassis, trying to remember the layout of their base from my "well spent" time with them. On my left and down a level was MECH's sick little jail, where the humans would be kept, no questions asked. I took off as Seven burst into the room at glacial speed, encased in the Apex Armor.

Down the stairs, thank Primus for high ceilings, around a corner, and I was met with a hallway full of cells. Just my luck that the humans were in the cell on the farthest end of the corridor―the only one with guards. I should've known.

Oliver and Will were there, standing at the front of the cell, holding the bars. Neither of them had the appearance of having been mistreated in any way, along with Melody and her mother, for which I was relieved. Except they were stuck in a crummy cell, but I was about to fix that.

I shoved the guard away from the front of the cell, not caring where my talons went. Then I pushed the three humans right behind the bars away, being much more vigilant of where the tips of my talons were. I waited a few seconds until the hit the back wall, then took a large step back and fired a missile. The explosion relieved the ceiling of the bars. I picked them up and tossed them away, the instant they left my servos they seemed to float in midair. So much for the direct approach. Then I rushed in and snatched the humans up before they could be peppered with shrapnel, two in each servo.

I then raced back down the absurdly long corridor, up the stairs and outside where I promptly deposited them on the grass, and darted back inside the building to join the fun.

* * *

I couldn't stand the boredom. If Will didn't wear a watch, we would've had no idea what time it was. We all were fed two meals a day, plentiful but tasteless, and spent the hours making weird noises or in conversation to pass the time. Or napped. But the boredom was getting to me now more than ever.

Getting an idea, I cupped my hands around my mouth. "HEY! GUARDS! WE NEED HELP!"

A guard walked into my line of sight, "What now?" he growled, hefting his pulse rifle.

Pointing at Will and myself, I spoke in a taunting voice, "Sir, this is highly illegal. We're minors and this is a bar," I made a dramatic sweeping gesture at the steel bars separating us, "so if you'd hand over your phone, I'd like to call the police."

"Can't do that, kid."

Will mimed leaning on an imaginary bar, picking up a shot glass only he could see and downed its nonexistent contents, then slammed it back down.

The guard turned away, walking back to his post and muttering under his breath all the while.

"Worth it." Will whispered to me behind his hand. I chuckled.

"Go into acting," I suggested.

"Same to you."

Melody suddenly stood and rushed to the bars of the cell, clutching them with her tiny hands and poked her nose through. "Robots!" She breathed.

I exchanged a concerned glance with my mom, then looked back to my sister. "No, Melody, the robots aren't here."

I wondered how Starscream was holding up.

The next thing that happened I would have tried to explain some time in the future and knew I would never be able to. Melody, Will, and I were suddenly pushed to the rear of the cell, skidding so fast that I hit the opposite wall and instantly knew I'd have bruises. The cell door exploded. And then we all zipped through the upper levels of the MECH base so fast that everything was just a blur, and suddenly my rear was roughly introduced to the grass outside. It all happened in less than two seconds.

We all staggered up to our feet, too stunned to say anything. We stared back at MECH's base in shock as it burned, part of the roof splintering and collapsing inward.

"Robots." Melody repeated firmly, planting her hands on her hips.

Will looked at me, dumbfounded. "I think we just set a record for the fastest jailbreak ever."

* * *

The humans were safe, now to find the cure. I tore apart the base looking for any telltale sign that would point me in the right direction, darting from one room to the next while Seven literally tore the building apart at its seams. Every once in awhile I had to dodge something floating in the air towards me at a blistering zero-point-one mile per hour from things that my clone kept blowing up. He might've been untouchable in that armor, but I had no such protection, other than hyper speed. Ironically, from my point of view, I wasn't fast; the universe was slow. And I loved every minute of it.

"Ugh, where is it?! I don't have all day!" I snapped after poking around through another bare room in the sub-ground levels of the building. I dashed back upstairs and almost stepped on Silas.

I stalked around him, "Ah, MECH's leader. I should really just kill you now, but you still are of use to me." So I casually walked away and relieved all the soldiers of their pulse rifles, putting them in Seven's servo. Then I spirited Silas outside of his base, well away from the other four humans. I snarled to myself, feeling the red energon wearing off already―everything slowly had begun to speed back up.

I resisted the compelling urge to hurl him into the nearest pine and instead, deposited Silas on the ground, transforming out a blaster. I managed to aim it at him just as the world caught up with me.

"Hand me the cure and I might permit you to live." I growled between clenched denta. MECH's leader seemed mildly surprised that he wasn't in his base anymore, but that didn't stop him from answering my question.

"Starscream, in the flesh." He sneered, "In a manner of speaking. You see, that wasn't part of the deal."

"I have not come to bargain, Silas. And you are in no position to be making offers."

"And you clearly are desperate enough to come begging for it, so I would say we're on equal footing."

"Were it not for the fact that I am armed," I snarled. "Give me the cure!"

He crossed his arms, "All in due time, dear Starscream. As for now–"

"Save your little speech for someone who has time on their servos," I spat, annoyed. "Now, either you talk or you dance."

The smug look hadn't left his face, "You actually thought we weren't prepared for this? MECH always anticipates," he flipped out a small device, "I wish there is another way, but…"

"Wait, what is that?" I lowered my blaster nervously.

"… I'm afraid you are the one who is going to dance." He smiled maliciously and flicked a switch on the device. The world suddenly erupted in white.

* * *

I stepped out of the ruins of MECH's base, flames that I couldn't feel swirling around me. Massive explosions shook the ground more forcefully than thunder. My double had started to sprint back towards me, but then the ground exploded at his pedes. The Apex Armor protected me, but Starscream wasn't so lucky. He was launched backwards into the air, his wings catching the blast and bringing him even higher.

I watched in shock as he started his descent back to this planet's surface. A fall from that height would surely shatter some vital mechanisms. Then he transformed, sloping down from an uncontrolled freefall into a smooth glide that would win him full marks on any flight test at the Cybertron War Academy.

"NO!" I shouted, chasing after him as he shot past above me. The logical side of me kicked in and I activated my comm link, "Starscream, what is your malfunction?!" I screeched.

"The humans!" came his frantic reply. And suddenly I was tripping over my own pedes, trying to run back to them as explosions rocked the ground.

* * *

The feel of the wind over my wings once again left me so euphoric I had to force myself not to scream and do loops. Instead, I allowed myself to let loose a whoop, pushing my thruster to get to the humans before the bombs did. The four of them were enough to deal with as it was, I didn't need even more of them on my servos. It was already messy.

I transformed and landed in front of the humans, who still looked shell-shocked. My heel struts sank into the soft dirt strewn with leaves. I scooped them all into my arms and broke into a sprint, boosting my strides with my thruster while weaving in and out of trees.

"W-what's happening?" Oliver's mom asked, looking up at me as if seeing me for the first time.

"Congratulations, you've been selected to be human sacrifices." I received only blank stares back. I rolled my optics, "You're being rescued, of course! You didn't just think we would leave you to rust, did you?"

"Rot," Oliver corrected. "We're organic, not metal."

"Who's 'we'?" Will asked.

"Seven and I–" I coughed wetly. Will and Oliver's heads snapped up at me in alarm.

"Thank you!" Oliver's mother smiled up at me gratefully from my right servo, oblivious. "I can't tell you how much this means to us—kids, where are your manners?"

"Thanks, Mr. Robot!" Melody squealed happily.

"Thanks," The boys muttered in unison from my left servo.

I stumbled over a rut, "Yes, you're all welcome, now shut up so I can concentrate!"

"Is he always like this?" Oliver's mom whispered to her son. He nodded so wildly I thought his hair had come alive and sought vengeance on his head.

After a couple seconds of quiet, Melody whimpered. "Hot, hot, hot!" The others looked uncomfortable as well, squirming a bit in my grasp.

"What?" I asked, my helm feeling a bit addled. I made the mistake of glancing down at her and was suddenly struck with vertigo. When I looked up, there was a large boulder that had cropped up out of thin air, just waiting to trip me. The four of them flew out of my grasp, landing on the soft ground a short distance away on the other side of the boulder. I shook my helm, leaning against the boulder and shuttering my optics.

"This planet slagging hates me, I swear…" I grumbled, lightly hitting my helm repeatedly against the back of the boulder.

I suddenly realized we were in the same clearing where MECH had took my T-Cog, bolting upright with wide optics.

"Scream, are you alright?" Oliver asked nervously, jogging towards me along with the other humans.

"Don't call me that!"

Will had taken off his red shirt and was straining to examine his back. "I've got burns!" He exclaimed, pulling it back on, "Hey, what gives?!"

I blinked at him in confusion, flicking a clump of dirt off my left shoulder plate. At least, I tried to. "What?"

"Scream, you're sick, aren't you?" Oliver asked nervously. "You never should've come to rescue us!"

I didn't get the chance to answer, as Seven suddenly flew in from above the treetops and transformed, landing lightly with the Apex Armor in his grasp. "Where the frag were you?" he snapped, "I had to do everything myself!"

"Playing tag with light," I growled, "I got the humans, didn't I?"

He set the armor down and tried to grab my shoulder plates to heave me to my pedes, but when his servos came in contact with me he yelped and jumped away, waving them frantically. "What the–"

I looked to Seven, terror in my optics. I tried to stand, but my right leg wouldn't cooperate. None of them appeared to notice.

"You're hot!" Oliver's mom exclaimed, looking to me. All our heads and helms turned to scrutinize her. Her eyes widened and she blushed slightly with embarrassment, "I-I mean you're burning up! Are you okay?" She asked in the worried manner only mothers can pull off.

"Yes, actually. I'm just feeling fantastic." I hit my helm against the boulder so hard it stung. "Never better, just great, thank you for asking." I chuckled, but the laughter wouldn't stop.

"What? What'd I say?" She frowned, confused.

Seven shook his helm, "Never mind that, there will be time for explanations later." My clone turned his attention to me, "Can you walk?"

I bit my lip, "I don't think so. My leg isn't functioning…"

"Which one?"

"Right," I snorted, beginning to feel like I was tipsy.

"It looks fine to me." Will said, ever so observant.

"Walk it off," Oliver smirked. For a second, if I could've reached him he would have been screaming for mercy. But then my perspective seemed to do a somersault and and I suddenly found it hilarious, doubling over as a fit of laughter hit me.

"Oliver!" his mother exclaimed, aghast. Melody wagged a finger at him, planting her other hand on her hip.

"Give me the ground bridge remote," Seven ordered, holding his palm out to me expectantly.

"Why?" I asked, snickering. I didn't know why I found that so funny, but that thought itself only added to the hilarity.

"Scream, just do it already! Please!" Will begged.

I clumsily tugged the remote out of the gap between the layers of my thigh plating, and offered it up to Seven. He made to grab it, but I dropped it and fell into another fit of laughter, gasping for air.

"Hang in there," he encouraged weakly, looking ill himself. My clone opened a portal with the remote and glanced at me, then dashed through without a word.

* * *

I retrieved the remote from where Starscream had dropped it, opening a bridge and ran through it without a second thought. Once I was in our base, I hurled the Apex Armor at Bulkhead, who caught it, surprised.

"Where were you?" The green mech asked accusingly.

"We can talk about that later," I answered hurriedly, striding towards the medic.

"What is it?" Ratchet spun around to face me as if reading my mind.

"Starscream, I don't know…"

The medic was in his element, "Knock Out, my medical kit. Now!"

"Am I not coming?" The red mech frowned, tossing him the kit.

"No." Ratchet, Arcee, and I said in unison.

"What is his condition?" Optimus asked, concern darkening his features.

I sighed, "Not good, that's for sure. He was hot to the touch and said his right leg wasn't functioning." I said, "He went off his helm after a minute or so, the fever, I suspect."

Ratchet turned to Knock Out, "Prepare sickbay."

"Way ahead of you," the red mech said. "You know, I used to run my own medical bay!"

"Keep dreaming," Arcee crossed her arms.

"Must you all talk this much?" I spat, drumming my fingers against my thigh plate.

"That's funny, coming from you." Bulkhead shot back. My wings flicked in irritation.

"Are you planning on coming in the next week?" Ratchet huffed impatiently, jerking his helm at the ground bridge.

"Mark your calendar," I muttered and walked through, Optimus and the medic following at my heels.

* * *

When we exited the bridge and stepped into the clearing, Starscream appeared to be fine at first. He had reclined more-or-less casually against the boulder, watching us through hopeful ruby optics. The humans stood as close as they dared, and in Melody's case, her mother had to hold her back.

"You four should go," I said softly, closing the ground bridge and opening a new one that led to their house. Well, Will would have to walk.

"What?!" Will exclaimed, "No way!"

"I'm staying!" Melody protested.

"You'd have to drag me," Oliver said resolutely, crossing his arms in defiance.

I snapped, waving an arm, "It wasn't a suggestion! GO!"

The Prime laid a servo on my shoulder plate, forcing me to turn and face him.

"Seven," Starscream said, looking to me as the humans dragged their feet through the bridge, "don't…" he coughed, spraying small flecks of energon. I took a frightened step back before I knew what I was doing, then felt shame burn my faceplates. Optimus then took the ground bridge remote from my grip, which was so tight I had dented the sides of it. "Everything with a beginning ends one way… one way or another…" Optimus closed the vortex just as I opened my mouth.

"DON'T SAY THAT!" I shouted, stepping over to Starscream as my wings flared up. He watched me through wary, dazed optics.

"Will you please!" Ratchet exclaimed, dropping a tool. "I'm trying to focus here!"

The other Seeker looked up to Ratchet and sighed dryly, watching the medic with a bemused air. "Déjà vu?"

The old bot nodded in exasperation, "Yes, I do recall when I patched up your hip."

I sat down, watching my double soundlessly as he watched me. "You know," he began quietly, whether by choice or inability to speak louder, I didn't know, "our positions were once reversed."

"When?" I asked, confused, remembering no such instance.

He tilted his helm back, gazing up at the stars before replying. "The doc here had you hooked up to–" a fit of coughing accompanied by a few wires of electricity wracked his frame, "had you hooked up to life support," he smiled, "no one knew whether you'd make it or not."

I looked away, remembering the time as well, but not from that standpoint. It was a few months ago, when the humans retrieved that scrap of Megatron's metal. My memory went dark in the base, save for a jerking sensation. When I awoke, much later, everyone was crowded around me… I saw what he meant. Megatron had torn me nearly to pieces prior to that and I spent weeks recuperating, with most of it spent on a berth.

"You said it yourself," I added lowly, "I'm expendable. You're _Starscream_ , former leader of the Seeker elite on Cybertron, X-SIC of the Decepticons–"

"Yes, we all know there's a list, isn't there?" He started laughing, but not the good kind that made one want to join in; it had a raspier, sicker note to it, born of delirium rather than humor. It sent chills down my spinal struts.

Ratchet looked to me gravely, "You weren't jesting."

My wings flared up, "Would I really, at a time like this? I can't believe you aren't taking him back to base where we can actually help him," I shook my helm in disbelief and scowled, standing back up.

The medic glanced up at me, "We can't move him until he's regained at least some of his strength. Optimus?"

The Prime seemingly knew what Ratchet needed, handing him a flashlight from the medical kit. The white mech held it up above my double's faceplates, shining it in his optics. "Starscream? Starscream, can you hear me?"

"Like a broken record," he giggled, and tried to push the medic's servo away. Bolts of electricity suddenly wracked his ailing frame and he doubled over, pain contorting his features.

Optimus knelt beside him and laid a servo on his shoulder plate, "Starscream, we are all here for you." He winced as one of the bolts met his servo, but didn't retract it. The Seeker whimpered and drew in on himself, beginning to shiver as the electricity dissipated.

"Yip, ip, ip, hold still." Ratchet urged, adopting a slightly gentler tone as he addressed Starscream.

"Sev, you still here?" He asked, his voice exhausted. I stepped into his line of sight, not bothering to tell him off for the nickname. He laughed sharply, energon bubbling out of his mouth. "I-I thought you were–" he snickered, "that you had left, but you're always h-here–"

"I'm right here, don't worry about me." I said to my double, kneeling down next to him.

"Easy," Ratchet said gently. "Optimus and I are going to get you back to the base. You'll feel better there."

Optimus handed the the remote and I watched as they hefted the Seeker up between them. His left pede met the ground, while his right dragged uselessly behind him. I opened a bridge, and the Prime and medic half carried, half walked Starscream through it, the latter shaking from fit after fit of laughter wracking his chassis, occasionally coughing up more energon. I grabbed the medical kit and trailed behind them, dragging my pedes while freezing terror at the thought of losing him seeped into every vein. The world had turned to glaring ice.

* * *

Silas stood in front of the only wall in his base that hadn't crumbled, the one Breakdown's chassis leaned against. He watched it as if it would just decide to get up and walk.

"Sir, are you sure?" A soldier asked from the handful that had survived while all the others watched in silence. "Our resources are virtually nil, and the damage our technology sustained from the attack cannot possibly–"

"Do it." MECH's leader grinned savagely, the scars on his face stretching taut.

"Yes, sir." Came the soldiers' reply.


	15. 15 - The Human Factor II

XV - The Human Factor II

"Oh, what now?" Knock Out drawled as we walked through the portal.

"The twins were gone for an hour, AN HOUR," Ratchet snarled, "and _he_ comes back in this state!"

"Twins?" I frowned.

"How are your optics, Sev?" Bulkhead quipped, "You two are each other's spitting image, 'cept for your wings, of course."

"Red energon," Starscream muttered feverishly between strangled giggles from between Optimus and Ratchet, "it has to be."

I almost took Bulkhead's quip as an insult right then.

"What?" The medic asked, obviously only half-listening. He was more focused on the other Seeker's condition than his fevered rambling.

I set the medical kit down on a table, "How else were we supposed to get the humans back?"

"Wait, what are _you_ talking about?" Arcee asked, sounding well past the point of being simply confused.

"You lost me," Smokescreen said from next to Bulkhead, looking a bit disturbed.

The green mech smacked him amiably, "Now you're stealing my lines!"

"Oliver and Will weren't on a field trip, were they?" The femme accused, beginning to connect the dots.

"Of course not!" Starscream's good leg buckled and his faceplates went ashen. Optimus helped him to over to the med berth while Ratchet darted off, preparing an IV. "MECH took them as h-h-hostages–" he coughed up more energon and fell into a sick bout of laughter, "hostages, they-they were caught, can you believe that? Good thing we-we got them back, right? I mean–"

"Save your strength and shut up!" I snapped anxiously. He didn't seem to have heard me. Everyone looked to me expectantly, save for my double. He shuttered his optics, and laid down on the med berth. Ratchet plugged the IV line into his elbow joint, causing him to wince a little. The medic leaned to one side and grabbed a rag off of a table, then wiped Starscream's faceplates with it.

"MECH took Will and Oliver hostage?" Arcee asked. "I don't believe it for a second."

"Hey, who're those two?" Smokescreen interrupted, apparently sick of being ignored.

"Humans," I glanced at him, "they're my indentured servants in a manner of speaking."

The femme rolled her optics. My wings fluttered, "Arcee, believe it. MECH had them crammed in a tiny cell along with Oliver's younger sister and their mother. Starscream and I went to rescue them… he took some of the red energon while I borrowed the Apex Armor."

Optimus' optics widened a fraction. "And you did not think to tell us?"

"They're fine," I replied defensively, "but I'm afraid I cannot say the same for MECH. Their base was _unfortunately_ reduced to tinder amid all the fuss." I sneered.

"Silas blew it up…" A coughing fit abruptly wracked Starscream's weakened frame, electricity flickering through it. He opened his optics again once it had passed, a small rivulet of energon trickling out of his mouth. He wiped at it, then stared dumbly at his unsteady servo stained with blue and fell into a fit of hysterical laughter, servos shaking uncontrollably.

Bumblebee started slightly, his helm whipping over to look at the ailing Seeker. [What's so funny?]

"Nothing," I snapped shakily.

Knock Out came over to Starscream's side, "I know it'll be nearly impossible for you, but try to be quiet," the red mech encouraged with sad optics.

"Starscream, if you die," I growled, "I'm going to personally terminate you."

My double snickered, "That isn't–"

"I shall find a way, trust me."

"You're telling me," Ratchet began angrily, ignoring my previous comment and glaring at the console's screens, "that _he_ ," he pointed a finger at the jet behind him, "used some of the red energon!"

"Yes," I quailed beneath his glare.

"Do you have any notion of what that would do to his systems!" He snapped, shouting now. "Speed-enhancing energon would expedite the virus' progress exponentially—more than if he transformed! And now you're going to say he did that too, aren't you!"

I whimpered, taking a step back, "Actually–"

The white medic threw his servos up in the air, "By the Allspark, one would think you wanted him dead! I can't even count the number of ways it could be affecting him now… energon degeneration, short circuits, internal–"

"Hey!" Starscream snapped.

"It was his idea!" I protested.

"Starscream, Seven, I am afraid that I have to confine you to the base." Optimus said somberly. "It is for your own safety."

Seething, I turned on the Prime. "And what would have happened to the humans, pray tell? Once Silas knew we weren't going to make an entrance, he would have _disposed_ of them! I'm so sick of your slagging pontificating! So what if we didn't make the right choice; it was the only one we had! If we had just sat back on our afts and twiddled our thumbs, they could be dead!"

[Seven!] Bumblebee exclaimed in shock. Everyone else looked equally taken aback.

The Prime sighed, "No, you are right. I believe that trying to protect the two of you has begun to cloud my judgement enough that you are unwilling to approach me. This incident was avoidable, and if you had informed me of the humans' peril, it very well might not have happened."

"But it did, and here we are." I crossed my arms matter-of-factly.

"Now what?" Arcee interjected, "With MECH's base destroyed, it's game over, right? We won."

Starscream stared at the ceiling morosely—looking a tad more coherent—as if having just realized something, "No, we lost. The cure is gone." He shivered. It suddenly seemed like all the air had been sucked out of the room. "Now he's just going to let me offline–" the Seeker coughed sharply, expelling more energon from his mouth. I took an instinctive step back. "I am of no further use to him or MECH, now that their base is destroyed, and all their _equipment_ with it. So he can g-go further his own sick private agendas…" he shut his optics tight, his chest plate rising and falling in an increasingly rapid rhythm. His intakes came in tight, feverish pants. Ratchet went over to him immediately, wiping the energon off his chin sloppily with a rag.

The base's comm link suddenly pinged. Ratchet tossed the cloth aside onto a table as he walked over to the console to answer it, pressing a button. "Yes, Jack?"

The human's voice answered from the other end, sounding eager. "Hey Ratch, can you bridge us over? We've got something that Scream will like."

"Oh?"

"It's a surprise," Miko's voice piped up, sounding a bit more distant.

Grumbling, the medic opened a bridge. Starscream watched curiously through slitted optics, still looking weary, but far more _here_. It was understandable. The five humans entered our base in a flash of light, carrying what appeared to be a large, fraying piece of fabric between them.

"Did we get the measurements right?" Raf asked nervously, looking at the others, "I hope it's big enough…"

"It will be," Oliver assured him.

"Uh, what exactly is it?" I asked, cocking my helm.

"A patchwork quilt!" Will exclaimed theatrically as they unfurled it. Aside from a few spots, its stitching looked pretty professional and a multitude of thick, warm-looking blankets and furs made it up. Three blocky, hand-stitched words dominated its center: GET WELL SOON. Starscream dialed up his optics' brightness and watched in curious excitement.

"How many animals did you have to slaughter to make that?" Bulkhead chuckled.

"It's faux fur," Jack clarified. "At least, some is. There's also cotton, flannel, polyester, and other stuff too. We just were thrifting after school and found a bunch of old blankets…" he trailed off. They didn't look anything like "old blankets," the majority were far too nice. But I wasn't going to object.

They held it up for Ratchet and the medic took the quilt from them and draped it over Starscream, muttering something about breaking fevers.

"Thank you," Starscream croaked, optics glittering with gratitude.

"Get well soon," Raf murmured. The human needn't have worried about its size; it covered my double completely up to his neck cables and spilled over the sides of the berth. He shuttered his optics and sighed contentedly.

On an impulse, I picked the humans up and deposited them beside Starscream on the edge of his berth. Miko didn't think twice, she clambered up his side, digging her feet into the thick folds of the quilt. The girl hugged the quilting above his chest plate tightly.

"We're all gonna miss you," she said quietly. Oliver and Will both held the jet's black servo, dwarfed beside it. Raf watched Jack pat one of his missiles, which may not have been the smartest move.

"You all are so dramatic," Starscream groaned behind a smile/

"Hey, wanna hear about what Jack did last week?" Miko grinned with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Jack took a step backwards, "Miko… don't…"

"He asked Sierra out!" the girl blurted, grinning.

Starscream raised an eyebrow and tilted his helm to better look at the boy. "Oh? You aren't jealous, are you?"

Miko gave the boy a look. "Ew."

"Thanks," Jack said dryly.

Raf chuckled, "Yeah, he did."

The other Seeker cast Jack an expectant look. "And?"

The boy shrugged, trying to look nonchalant as he crossed his arms, but did so the wrong way and fumbled with them for a second, face reddening. "She… said yes."

"Just remember, Jack, I'm your partner, not your wingman." Arcee pointed out with a smirk, crossing her arms.

He raised his hands, "I know, I know. But one drive can't hurt, can it?"

"Maybe, but don't push it."

The human silently pumped a fist, getting scattered chuckles.

"Hey Scream, you ever go out with someone?" Miko asked. "That is, if you can have romance-y stuff." she hid a giggle.

"Can I elect to not answer that?" Starscream asked, giving me an exasperated look.

"It's your fu–actually, this is quite entertaining. Indulge us," I said, catching myself. Sharing his memories proved hilarious in this circumstance.

He pulled the quilt over his faceplates, his voice muffled, "I said no. It was humiliating."

"Dude! Now you _have_ to tell us!" Miko exclaimed, leaning on his chest plate as she pulled the blanket back.

My double pulled the quilt down past his chin, frowning at the girl on his chest plate. "All I shall say is that yes, Cybertronians can develop "feelings" for each other–" he shuddered, bringing on a few barks of laughter, "and for me, that was a long time ago."

"You're not _that_ old, are you?" Will said, raising an eyebrow.

"By Cybertronian standards, no," he agreed, "but war tends to get in the way of those th-things." He coughed wetly and wiped at his mouth plates sloppily, "May we _please_ converse about anything else?" He grimaced and coughed again, trying to pull on the blanket more.

"Nuh-uh!" Miko exclaimed, jerking it back with enough force that it slipped out of my double's talons and she fell onto her rear with an "Oomph!"

"Jack, Miko, Oliver, Seven? I have something to say to all of you."

"We're all still here," I assured him.

"I can hear you," Miko agreed, kneeling on his chest plate.

"Same." said Jack.

"Ditto," Oliver added, touching his servo.

"I've been thinking," my double began slowly as if measuring out each word, "and I apologize, that–" he coughed, "that you met my demons the day you boarded Megatron's warship. Seven especially." He met my optics, and genuine remorse glittered up at me in identical red orbs. "It was selfish, _cowardly_ of me to send children—anyone, really, in place of myself."

"Hey, we all signed up for it. Besides, it was Oliver's idea in the first place." Miko said, sweeping some of her pink hair out of her eyes.

"That's what she said," Oliver jerked a thumb at the girl.

She elbowed him. "Dude! Not the time!"

"Miko's right," Jack agreed, hiding a smirk. "That was a while ago, and I think we'd all agree that if you're going to apologize to anyone, it's Seven."

I took a deep intake, seeing that everyone was watching me. "I… I would rather forget that it happened than forgive you. You threatened to terminate me, after all, saying I had 'lost my use' to you. Slag, Megatron nearly did it for you."

His optics widened in fear.

"But I can't hate you," I continued, taking a seat beside him on his berth on top of the soft, thick quilt. "not like this."

Starscream stared up at me in surprise, and one could have heard a pin drop.

"All of you, leave Starscream to rest. Besides, your parents will want you home soon, will they not?" Ratchet said in a businesslike tone, shattering the silence. "I won't have you hassling my patient."

Starscream shivered, causing Miko to lose her balance as she was getting back up and fall onto her hands and knees. "Yes, doctor, you don't want them stealing your job, do you?"

Ratchet smirked and winked at us. "Shh, you aren't thinking straight with that fever."

I think Starscream laughed the hardest of us all. But our euphoria evaporated as it soon turned to wheezing as he fought for air. We got the humans off him, Miko, Raf, and Will had wet-looking eyes: we all saw plain as day how Starscream's mouth plates had become stained with energon.

"Scream…" Smokescreen trailed off, not knowing what to say. The Seeker gave him a sideways look behind a large yawn.

I stared down at my double, wanting to tell him everything would be okay, laugh in the face of it all, that sort of thing. But the last thing I wanted to do was lie to him when he was like this. "Who knows? Maybe… maybe death will hate you more than life does and send you back."

Starscream let out a strained laugh and gave me a strange look. "Maybe. But Ratchet is right for the moment, I would like to rest…" his optics dimmed as he spoke, "just–" he was cut off by a large yawn, "try to pipe down, you all are so loud… 'cept Soundwave isn't… vow of silence–" he yawned again, optics dimming until their crimson color was barely noticeable, "such a cop-out… " and just like that, he was out.

Bulkhead smashed a fist into the wall, causing some of us to jump. "So what if MECH's cure is gone? We're gonna find a way!"

"And if you don't…?" I trailed off, meeting Ratchet's optics.

The medic averted his gaze, "We… have made progress."

Knock Out eyed Starscream and I, listening in to the conversation, "But at this stage… there isn't much more we can do." I stood and straightened the quilt over the other Seeker, who relaxed against the berth in his recharge.

[So you're saying he's going to die?]

Ratchet shuttered his optics, still looking down. "Yes, Bumblebee, I am. It is only a matter of time."

Everyone looked to Starscream. The quilt was doing the trick, he wasn't shivering anymore, but still was uncomfortably hot to the touch. His optics were still closed and he wasn't moving, wrapped in the comforting folds of recharge. The telltale rise and fall of the quilt over his chest plate was sign enough that he wasn't finished yet.

Optimus stood a bit straighter, drawing our attention away from the sick bot. "Autobots, return the humans to their homes, then go recharge. We shall speak more of this in the morning."

No one argued, despite the fact that several of us likely wouldn't find any recharge tonight. I sincerely doubted that I would. But while everyone dispersed, save for the medics, I snuck down a corridor to where our Iacon relics were kept, muttering to myself. "Let's see… Spark Extractor, no… phase shifter, that's a nice one… Apex Armor, my personal favorite… red energon, oh, not again… energon harvester, not a bad choice if I do say so myself…" I stopped in front of another window, frozen in place. Behind the door was a stasis pod, Airachnid frozen inside of it in mid-scream, staring sightlessly at me, illuminated by a red glow from beneath her pedes. I frowned at her, it was so eerie with the femme locked in mid-scream, illuminated by red light. Her purple compound optics seemed to follow my movements. "I was wondering where they put that wretch…" I shivered, moving on, "I should swipe some of the humans' bug spray. Ah, here we are." I stopped in front of one of the closed doors towards the middle of the hallway, peering in through the frosted glass window. "The shrink ray, and the sliver of Megatron's metal to ensure its activation." The humans had duct-taped the sliver to the ray to ensure it stayed operational. And though I didn't care for their methods in the slightest, it worked.

And they were the reason I was even in here after all.

I held it so that the tip was facing me, and pressed the button, activating it. We also learned that it had a dial to adjust size in Cybertronian glyphs, hiding beneath a panel. I flipped it open and cranked it down to about six or so feet, then fired. A swirling beam of red energy hit me square in my chest plate and I staggered, underestimating the force of the impact. The ray fell out of my grasp as the world began to spin so fast that it became a grey blur around me. The perpetual anxiety that had woke me up in the morning and had left me exhausted at the end of each day spiked. I was on-edge every waking moment, waiting for a fateful comm from Ratchet confirming Starscream's demise.

I staggered back up to my pedes, fluttering my wings. "Primus, that is slagging awful…" I groaned, rubbing my helm with the palm of my servo. My optics fell back onto the ray beside me; I'd be able to pick it up for certain, but it was so large that I wouldn't be able to hold it for long. The ceiling soared high above me. Without a further thought, I pulled the ground bridge remote out of my thigh plating and activated it.

"Here we go…"

* * *

Someone rapped at the door, bringing our conversation to a screeching halt.

"Not it," Will said. He and my mom looked to me.

I sighed, "I'll get it." I rose up off the sofa, tossing the wadded up blanket I was using as a pillow aside. I smirked at the sound of a muffled thump as it collided with Will's head.

My mom yawned, "Careful, sweetie."

 _Why do you have to call me that in front of Will?_ I waved at her, not looking back as I walked down the hall and unlocked the front door. _Hopefully it isn't another psycho coming to kidnap us again._ "Hello?"

"May I come in?" Seven asked, his wings fluttering in the cool breeze, standing a couple inches taller than me. I gawked at him and stepped out of the way of the door as it swung inward.

* * *

Standing inside Oliver's house, I felt completely out of place. And it wasn't only the fact that I was about as tall as the humans. The worst part was the fact that I wasn't even sure of why I was here, only that I knew I needed to get out of the base. Desperately. So I just stood in the center of the room, for once not wanting to be the center of attention as the three humans stared at me in stunned silence.

I flitted my wings, adopting a piqued tone, "What lengths does one have to go to to get a shred of hospitality on this planet?"

Oliver's mother scowled at herself, "Where are my manners?! Would you like anything? Coffee, water?"

I gave her a look. "And perhaps a side of rust?" She wrung her hands, not knowing how to respond.

"Don't sweat it," her son placated, "he's just pushing buttons."

Melody suddenly skipped down the staircase, waving at me. "Hi, Seven! You're shorter!"

"You noticed," I rolled my optics.

"Was it another accident with the shrink ray?" Oliver smirked.

"Accident? Hardly!" I snapped, affronted.

"Why're you here?" Melody asked, poking my side. I shooed her away, brushing myself off.

"How is Screamer?" Oliver asked tentatively.

"What exactly is wrong with him?" His mother added, pulling herself up into a sitting position.

I launched right into it, looking to Oliver's mother. "The organization who took you captive, MECH, implanted a virus inside of Starscream's T-Cog. It's the organ which allows us to scan vehicles and transform."

"He lost it?" She asked.

"My point is that he got it back, and MECH hid a virus inside of it months ago." I looked to the pair of boys sadly, "However, Ratchet did make some progress on the antidote, but he will not make it. I've grown to loathe being the bearer of bad news." My voice quavered and my wings dipped.

"I'm sorry," Oliver's mom said quietly. The other humans hung their heads, suddenly rapt in their shoes.

Will suddenly looked at his watch, "I should be going! My folks have probably called the cops…"

"You aren't on the news, so don't bet on it." Oliver bit his lip.

"Sev, do you have the remote?" The other boy asked. I clamped my mouth shut, shaking my helm in a lie.

Without a word, the boy turned and left, shielding his face. Oliver's mother retreated to her room with Melody a handful of minutes after that, but her son remained awake until the early morning. We sometimes met each other's gaze by some unspoken words, but after a while I simply started at the ceiling through bleary optics, wondering again what I had thought to get out of coming here. Or maybe it wasn't why I came here, but why I had left the base.

* * *

I woke from recharge, disoriented, blinking furiously against the harsh sunlight streaming onto my faceplates. I sat up and a blanket rolled off me. I was on the human's sofa in their living room, which explained the soft cushioning beneath me. The television was playing quietly across from me, tuned to a news station and the humans were sitting on stools in the kitchen, which was connected to the living room. Oliver was clad in pajamas, sitting with his back to me and spooning something into his mouth. A pang of hunger hit me.

His mother stood on the other side of the counter where Oliver sat at, pouring herself a bowl of something. She glanced up, doing a double take once she registered I was up. "Someone's finally awake," she smiled warmly, "I didn't know you Cybertronians slept–"

"She came down in the middle of the night to check on us." Her son stifled a snicker behind a mouthful of food. "You should've heard her yelp."

"You call it sleep, we call it recharge, same difference." I corrected, joining them at the counter and took a seat on a stool one over from Oliver, holding my chin in my servos.

"What time is it?" He asked.

I checked my internal clock, which read 10:08 a.m. "Time to get a watch." I deadpanned, my thoughts turning to Starscream again. _Why did I leave the base?_

"Ha, ha. Mom, when does school start?"

She walked away, picking up a calendar and flipped through it. "You've been getting off school a lot lately," she frowned, "it's a late start; you have an hour."

Oliver gasped, "Crap!"

"What?" I asked, on edge. My wings fluttered nervously.

"Today's the day we have our competition!" He exclaimed ruefully. I gave him a blank stare. "You know, remember when Will's talked about his RC car? Our project for STEM class? Huge part of our grade–"

"Shut up. Ah, yes, his nonexistent, would-be-pathetic remote controlled device. What about it?" I asked, feeling all too much that he was wasting my time.

He swirled his spoon around in his bowl, stirring the contents up. "See, we're partnered for this project, we were supposed to make an RC car."

Miffed, I scowled lightly at him, "Why make a ground vehicle when it could have flight instead?"

"Even the teacher can't make a plane, it's too hard. Well, if that's what… you're… saying…" he trailed off, a smile coming over his features.

It was his mother's turn to wonder, "What?"

He gave me a funny look, "Seven, ever wonder what human school is like?"

"Never in my function. Why?" I asked, not bothering to hide the skepticism penetrating my tone.

"Well, you'll get to find out today. You're going to be our jet."

* * *

Silas opened his eyes, and Breakdown's chassis around him opened its functional optic while the other glowed with a yellow light. His servo twitched.

"Welcome back, sir. Every system appears operational, but we had to remove a considerable amount of your organic tissue to make a successful connection with the robot chassis." A soldier said, stepping up to him.

Silas held out a servo, examining it in awe, "I'm… one of them… it worked."

"Your brain, fused with the donor's skeletal and nervous systems," the same soldier added.

"The perfect meld of man and machine," MECH's leader smirked, "Exquisite." He tugged out a pair of energon lines from his scarred shoulder plates and several various sensors, now looking to all the soldiers. "Thank you all for your dedication and a lifetime of service," he stepped down, facing them even more now, "but I now seem more suited to seem the exclusive company of _titans_."


	16. 16 - The Human Factor III

XVI - The Human Factor III

Soundwave's scanners pinged aboard the _Nemesis_. "What? What is it?" Megatron asked, abruptly turning to face the blue mech at the sound. The silent mech opened it on the one of the ship's consoles. "Breakdown's signal… investigate with caution. It may well be an Autobot trick." The warlord gestured to a pair of drones, "Go scout the location with Soundwave, and bring dear Breakdown back, whether he is dead or alive."

The silent mech's fingertips flew over the keypad of the console, and a second later a ground bridge portal opened, bathing the _Nemesis_ ' bridge in a green glow. Soundwave walked through, the drones following close behind him, blasters out and at the ready.

Soundwave scanned his surroundings, searching for signs of any immediate threats. The warehouse in front of him practically waved a red flag in his visor. A charred, smoking maw of a hole was blown out of the side of it, and a scarred blue mech came walking out, dragging something that looked quite heavy. The drones raised their blasters defensively, but Soundwave raised a servo, signaling them to stop.

The blue mech appeared to be Breakdown, but Soundwave noted that something was off, besides the fact that his chassis looked like it had cut to pieces then welded back together.

"You must be Soundwave," he hoisted the crate he was carrying up into the air, "and I am CYLAS. But I believe Megatron will be much more interested in this." He held the crate up in front of the silent mech's visor with a sneer, "So, take me to your leader."

* * *

I woke with a start, sitting up so abruptly that the energon in my helm raced to my pedes. As if I didn't already feel dizzy and nauseous. The quilted blanket that had covered me from neck-to-pede now was askew, slipping off the berth. Some foreign instinct made me reach out a servo and take hold of it, pulling it back up. It was warm in a way I couldn't explain, not by mere heat alone. But there was enough of that inexplicable warmth that made me scowl… or keen at the thought of losing it. I snuggled into the thing, allowing it to caress my wings like a set of gentle servos.

"Optimus, he's awake," Ratchet said into a comm after glancing at me.

"Affirmative." The Prime answered.

"Where are the others?" I asked, my voice ragged, taking in the nearly vacant room through bleary optics.

"Jack is with Smokescreen and Knock Out, teaching them the proper ways of driving on human roads, Optimus and Arcee are out doing reconnaissance, Bumblebee and Bulkhead are scouting another possible energon mine location, and the children are getting caught up on homework. Did I miss anyone, Agent Fowler?"

"A-aren't you forgetting Seven?" I offered.

"Haven't seen hide or hair of your clone, Scream." The agent stated. "Sorry to disappoint."

"I should hope not," I muttered.

Ratchet rolled his optics, "It's a figure of speech–"

"I know." I huffed, insulted.

Agent Fowler turned back to the screens, reading aloud something that looked relatively important. "At sixteen-thirty hours, an unknown device, possibly a weapon of mass destruction, was stolen from a high-security military vault. Surveillance shows the Decepticon known as Breakdown at the scene."

"He's been off the radar lately," Ratchet noted, flipping through what looked like medical records.

"Of course he has!"

"Oh, and why might that be?" Agent Fowler asked, giving me a look like I was wasting his time.

"Airachnid terminated him." I continued, lowering my optics' brightness to their dimmest setting as I felt that strange tingling sensation come over my frame again. Ratchet came over to my side and shushed me gently as one would do to a naïve sparkling, then pulled the quilt up to my chin.

"She can't have," the medic argued, "she has been locked in the stasis pod in our storage vaults for quite some time."

I scowled up at him, "Did you not hear anything I just said? I-It's impossible for Breakdown to be driving around, least of all with a human, because he's offline! That Airachni-glitch terminated him a long time ago!" I waved a servo to punctuate my argument, hating how it noticeably sapped my strength.

"Quiet," the medic repeated, more gently and slowly this time. "Starscream, listen to me. Your processor isn't functioning as it should, you do not know what you're saying."

My mouth fell open and I coughed painfully, "Don't feed me that scrap—you're the d-doctor, for frag's sake! I am perfectly aware of my actions!"

He clapped his servo over my mouth plates. Fuming, I stared him down until he removed it and walked away. I pushed the blanket off my chest plate and swung my left leg over the edge of the berth, grabbed my right, and pulled it into the same position, giving the wall a death glare. Oh, how good it would feel to spring up and storm out in a huff, go for a flight as was an almost routine part of life back aboard the _Nemesis_. But that reality no longer existed for me, due to the IV still stuck in my elbow and my right leg the way it was. There was no use running from the truth, no matter how much I desperately yearned to: I was crippled. I probably would never walk again, not without some high-tech crutch. I trembled. I didn't know if any vital flight mechanisms were in that leg or not, but if there were, well, when I transformed I wouldn't be able to get off the ground.

Ratchet glanced back at me and came over, seeing my distressed faceplates. "Now what?"

"I-I won't ever be able to walk again, will I?" I whimpered and tried to lay back down on the berth, but when I made an attempt to move my right leg with my arms again, I just wasn't strong enough. I couldn't think of anything sadder.

"I… could fashion a crutch, or amputate it and give you a prosthetic…" he trailed off, looking at me with pained, sympathetic optics. But it would be a waste of time, we both knew that, because whatever meager amount I had left would be spent on berth.

"I'm sorry," Agent Fowler said stiffly from the platform. "Ratchet, have a look at this." the human encouraged, and stepped aside to afford the medic a better view of the screens. Ratchet watched, and I strained my neck cables to see whatever-it-was. The agent pulled up a photograph taken at an angle so steep that it had to have been from a satellite. "It looks like Breakdown entered the base in vehicle mode with someone behind the wheel." He reasoned, pointing at the photograph.

The medic's tone was well past skeptical, "Preposterous! A Decepticon paired with a human?"

Agent Fowler wasn't to be deterred, however, "And I have a pretty good hunch who."

"The only organization obsessed with Cybertronians," Ratchet said, his optics widening as he caught on.

"MECH. That means Silas." Agent Fowler leaned back against the rails of the platform.

"But MECH's base was reduced to kindling. I should know, I was caught in the blast!" I broke in, still pining over my leg and wanting to distract myself.

"How could you have been? There isn't a scratch on you." Fowler asked, his eyes narrowing.

"It caught my wings and I had two options: transform and die slowly, or don't and–" I slapped the palm of a servo against the berth.

"Yes, we know." Ratchet sighed, his reply surprising me.

"You do! How?"

"Seven told us, and you did as well last night." His tone took on an edge of worry.

"You don't remember?" Agent Fowler asked dubiously from the platform.

The medic turned to him, "Given the condition he was in last night, I'm not surprised."

My wings dipped, "It's not that, I _do_ remember, but the details aren't organized and most of it is foggy…" I trailed off, morosely tracing a seam on the berth with the tip of a talon.

"I can tap into your drives to help boost your memory, but right now, finding what Breakdown and Silas are up to is imperative." Ratchet said firmly. "Take care of yourself, you'll help us that way."

"Why–" but I didn't get to finish and my voice raised an octave as that tingling sensation returned, but was like fire this time around. I squeezed my optics shut and felt my talons dig into the berth. It almost felt like being shot with one of those electric pulse rifles of MECH's.

I heard the medic come closer and fell into a fit of coughing, feeling the last of the electricity ebbing away. Weakly, I raised my helm, struggling for air just in time to see the medic turn a dial clockwise on a console hooked up to my IV. Behind him on the platform, Agent Fowler gave me a salute, a somber expression darkening his face in what felt like a farewell.

"No!" I protested, feeling the strange-but-familiar sensation of something cold mixing in with the energon in my veins. I clenched a servo as my processor grew murky, but my frame began to to lax against the berth, my strength ebbing. "I can' stan' just lyin' here… there, uh… mus' be somethin' I can—I can…" I trailed off, suddenly feeling lethargic and rendered unable to string a sentence together.

Ratchet came back over and pushed me down onto the berth gently, remorse in his optics for some reason. "Stay with us, Starscream." Lubricant sprung up there too, and he stayed in my sight until I knew no more.

* * *

Megatron paced up and down the deck of the ship's bridge, a dark scowl on his faceplates, servos clasped tightly behind his back. "Soundwave! What is this abomination you have brought aboard my ship?" the silver mech snapped, throwing a glare at the silent mech.

"I am CYLAS, as in Cybernetic Life Augmented by Symbiosis." He made a mock bow, "And I come with a proposition."

"I'm listening," the warlord said slowly.

"I propose that you not overlook the one asset that provides Optimus Prime with an edge. At least, upon this world." The blue mech smirked.

"And that would be…?" Megatron raised an eyebrow. "Unless you can deliver my former second-in-command to me for due punishment, I believe this conversation is finished."

"Far from it, Megatron." He added. The warlord glared. "Apologies, _Lord_ Megatron."

The silver mech was losing his patience. "Spit. It. Out."

"The human factor."

Megatron bristled, "Look around you, _CYLAS_. I command an army from a mighty warship," he blustered, leaning in close to the blue mech's faceplates, "what could a human possibly offer?"

The blue mech smirked, "I am no ordinary human. And this," he gestured to the crate behind him, "is no ordinary weapon."

"And if we were to use it?" The silver mech inquired.

"Not 'it,' Lord Megatron. _Them_."

Piqued, the warlord continued in a deceptively soft purr which managed to sound just as threatening as disarming at the same time, "And what is it that you wish in return?"

CYLAS answered in an equally soft tone, but with pride instead of malice. "Merely a place at the table," he smirked, feeling as though he had already won.

* * *

The blue mech that used to be Breakdown strode purposefully on the left of Megatron down one of the _Nemesis_ ' halls. Dreadwing walked on the right of the silver mech, taking the rightful place as SIC. The three were returning from a storage vault, issuing orders to the drones stockpiling energon.

"So," Megatron began, "you say this container holds a virus?"

"Unlike any other," CYLAS agreed, jostling it for good measure.

"Did you not engineer it yourself?" Dreadwing queried, his optics flitting down at the silver crate before meeting the other blue mech's.

"I did, and I can assure you that it is not only torturous, but indubitably lethal."

"Once a victim has been injected is there a chance they could survive, no matter how small?" Megatron affirmed.

"None, whatsoever." He sneered, "Unless, of course, said victim is injected with the antidote." The blue mech patted the side of the case, "Albeit the virus is slow-acting, it is engineered to debilitate the victim to extremes. And if said victim transforms, it becomes far more pervasive, all the while interfering with their peripheral nervous systems and others at a much faster rate.

"Such as controlling movement and motor functions."

"Indeed, Lord Megatron," CYLAS assured him as the three walked over a threshold and back into the warship's bridge.

Dreadwing spoke up, "Has the virus been tested on any Cybertronian, or are these merely claims upon evidence that could just as well be void?"

CYLAS smirked, "Funny you should ask, I imagine dear Starscream is feeling its effects as we speak…"

Immediately Megatron halted in his tracks, his scrutinizing air became one much more sinister, "You infected my former second with your virus, and yet you have the nerve to stand here, preaching on how it is lethal." He said, not giving any indication of anger or surprise. Dreadwing sneered, clearly anticipating where this was going. "CYLAS, you have indeed earned your place at the table."

The blue mech, on the other hand, was surprised. "Lord Megatron," he bowed his helm, "I am honored."

Megatron's optics suddenly blazed with fury, "The dissection table!"

CYLAS was aghast, "Why?!" he stepped back, taking on a defensive posture.

"Because this virus is the best you had to offer, and seeing as you saw fit to use it to ensure Starscream's termination–"

"You misunderstand," the blue mech broke in, trying to salvage the conversation while he still could, "I used it with the promise of a cure, ensuring that the Autobots would hand him over, so I could in turn do the same for you!"

"Quit groveling!" Megatron roared, "As my former second has indeed turned traitor and joined their cause, Starscream is mine to deal with however I choose, and no one else." The warlord's tone became quieter but now had a keen edge to it, like two knives scraping together. He straightened, sweeping his gaze over everyone in the room. "And anyone else who attempts to do so will be executed."

Soundwave suddenly stepped up behind CYLAS, his tentacle-arms slithering out and administering an electric shock that left the latter sprawling, sporadic twitches running through his frame. Dreadwing nudged him with the tip of his pede.

"He will be a fascinating case for study," Megatron sneered from above the blue mech. A pair of drones picked his arms up and started to drag him out of the room. However, his cries for mercy and weak struggles went ignored, and the door shut behind him, cutting off all sound from the hallway.

Megatron turned to Soundwave, "Now, let us see about dear Starscream. We have gained tremendous negotiating power, a vial of the antidote in exchange for a traitorous Seeker." the warlord smirked malevolently, picturing CYLAS' terrified, scarred faceplates as he was dragged out of the room, "An optic for an optic."

"The cure is of no practical use to us," Dreadwing added.

"Ah, but Starscream is," The warlord turned to face him, "and we will wrest information from him by any means necessary."

"Are you suggesting he knows the location of the traitorous Autobots' base?" The blue Seeker asked.

"That, and much more." The silver mech sneered, "Soundwave, your new priority is locating the Autobot base. You will report to Dreadwing of your findings daily." The silent mech nodded. "For the moment, continue to decode Project: Iacon. For that, you shall report directly to me."

The silent mech nodded, pointing to a new set of coordinates already decoded on a console's screen.


	17. 17 - Legacy

XVII - Legacy

My striped wings flared up. "No!" I spat, unable to believe that Oliver was able to entertain such an idea for even a moment.

His mother almost spewed her coffee across the countertop, "Oliver! The Cybertronians are not your playmates! You have Will and Tony for that!"

"Tony doesn't even know about all of this," her son shot back.

"And what about Will?"

"He thinks this is a good idea too," Oliver said firmly from the seat next to me.

She looked to me dubiously, "Seven?"

I crossed my arms, "Oh, now you're siding with him too? You humans are so predictable." I grumbled.

"C'mon, Sev, please! We can go right now, you can stay in your jet mode the entire time… just please don't use your missiles."

"Don't tempt me." I frowned at him.

His eyes brightened, "Is that a yes?"

"No."

A thoughtful look floated across his features, "You know, you never did tell us why you came here."

"Yes I did!" I protested indignantly. "It is because everyone back at the base is insufferable! Starscream this, Starscream that!" I glowered at the countertop, not realizing my wings were down until the human laid a hand on my shoulder plate. I flicked them in a halfhearted signal for him to back off. _Get a hold of yourself_ , I thought angrily.

"Seven, are you alright?" Oliver's mother asked in a soft tone, reaching her hand out across the counter and laying it on my servo. I flinched backwards in surprise, instinctively jerking away from her touch.

Her son forced me to meet his gaze, "If you help us, we'll try to help you. And it'll take your mind off Scream–"

"Fine." I conceded with a huff.

The human beamed at me, racing off. A minute later he ran back down the stairs, dressed for school and carrying what appeared to be a remote control. "To keep up appearances," he explained hurriedly. His mom smiled at me warmly, a look full of reassurance and gratefulness that it made me want to purge. It felt so unfamiliar that it was to the point of being uncomfortable. I'd begun to regret this.

* * *

I didn't know how Oliver had managed to talk me into getting into the trunk of their car. But here I was, in my jet mode in the claustrophobic, stuffy, hot compartment that jostled so much with every bump in the road I had to clench my denta. Slowly the car ground to a halt, the brakes squealing in protest. A second later the hatch to the trunk clicked and I was met with blinding sunlight only obscured by a person's silhouette. As my optics adjusted, I saw it was Oliver.

"C'mon," he said excitedly, "I can't wait!" The human made to hoist me up out of the trunk but I yelped.

"Not the wings!" I barked.

He shushed me and adjusted his grip, "Normal planes don't talk."

I smirked, "'Normal' planes are far inferior than I."

Oliver's mother waved at him as he slammed the trunk shut, "Good luck!" and drove off. As her car pulled away, I finally got a good look at my surroundings, besides Oliver's chest. Primus, the things I tolerated for these two were going to send me over the edge one day. To my left, in front of the human was a large throng of kids with a few adults mixed in, most looking to be roughly Oliver's age. A few of them were toying with model cars, staging mock races, making them do circles in the dirt and such. The renegade dust plumes were evidence enough that they had been occupying themselves in this way for a while. He was right: I certainly didn't see any form of plane—jet or otherwise. To prove his point even more, as we got closer to the crowd, whispers followed us and we began to draw stares. Behind us was the school, sprawling outward in a sea of grass halted only by a little black river of the paved road.

Will suddenly burst out of the crowd, grinning at Oliver. "Dude, where'd you find that!?" His eyes suddenly widened as they fell on my striped wings, "Wait, is that…"

Oliver smirked knowingly, "The one and only."

Will pretended to whisper to his friend but I knew it was directed at me, "Well, I wouldn't say 'only.' Sev, I don't want to know what blackmail he used to convince you, but this is awesome!" In reply, I raised my flaps in a manner that could almost be described as haughty by an onlooker. He laughed. The crowd of children had begun to feel constricting as they closed in on us, shooting Oliver eager and jealous questions similar to Will's.

"Is that a Viper?" Some kid asked from the growing crowd.

"No, it's a Falcon!" Another corrected. I could identify the speaker this time, a high-voiced kid wearing black-rimmed glasses.

"They're the same thing!" a third pointed out from farther away, followed by an audible groan.

"Where'd you get it?"

"How much was it?"

"I want one!"

"Looks so fast!"

Suddenly another kid pushed through the crowd, looking slightly familiar. Will pounced on him. "Tony! What gives, we haven't seen you in forever!"

The other boy looked Hispanic, a contrast to Will and Oliver who both were Caucasian. He wore a blue shirt with black stripes (or was it black with blue stripes?) and khaki shorts. He tried to fend Will off without success. "My family and I were on a trip down in Australia, remember? And no, we didn't see any penguins."

Will pouted, "You owe me five bucks."

My thruster sputtered impatiently. Oliver jumped at the noise and sudden burst of heat, looking to the nearest teacher, getting the message. "Hey, when is the contest starting?"

I bit my glossa so hard it stung, _Contest? There never was any mention of a "contest"! This is far from what I agreed to!_ But I managed to hold my glossa and instead allowed my flaps to flare up with a metallic _snap!_

The teacher looked impressed, stepping forwards. "Did you make that yourself?"

Oliver shrugged, improvising on the spot. "Yeah, but it was like reading from an IKEA manual. He's full of glitches and whatnot." My thruster sputtered in annoyance.

"He?" The teacher asked skeptically. Will shot Oliver a nervous look, while Tony simply was confused.

The human blanched, "I mean–we call 'him' Seven because, well, he took that many tries to put together!" Will shot him a look, _nice save_.

Tony rolled his eyes, "You know that ships are usually referred to as females, right?"

Will and Oliver exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

I couldn't help but snarl to myself. Oliver hid it with a fake cough and gave his friend a look, "So are we starting or what?" He tossed Will the remote, setting me on the ground. I blasted my thruster but stayed in one spot. "See, glitches!" He pointed dramatically at me. It was all I could do to keep myself from transforming and screaming at him. This had been a horrible idea. Will handed the remote back to him.

A few kids shook their heads, muttering about how they thought "it" wouldn't even fly. Oh, if they only knew. At the Cybertron War Academy, Starscream had graduated at the top of his class, and I had in turn, inherited that skill.

Another teacher stepped forwards, "Ready, racers?"

The kids let out a cheer so loud that I jumped badly, but no one appeared to notice except for Tony, who was eyeing me with a funny look on his face. I opted to ignore him. Roughly two dozen unique remote-controlled cars lined up on either side of me, ranging in quality from having bits of metal poking out and being wrapped in duct tape to the point where I couldn't tell whether they had come from a store or not. There was no questioning that I fell into the latter category.

The same teacher began walking down the line of kids and their cars, rattling off team names. He paused when he reached Will and Oliver, "And you two…"

Will piped up, "Team Scream!" Oliver broke out into a fit of laughter, doubling over. Tony gave them a funny look not unlike the one I had received.

Finally, the teacher had made it to the end of the line. "On your marks… get set… GO!"

I blasted my thruster, spiraling up into the sky and grinned. This might not be so bad after all.

* * *

I emerged from a fog of endless grey, feeling like I was floating but at the same time, my pedes were on the ground. Wherever that was. But it was strange, because the one of the last things I could remember was the fact that my right leg had ceased to function.

An invisible wind blew through, whisking the fog away. The Earth appeared beneath me and a strange, shadowy ship above me that didn't look familiar in the least. I watched a group of equally shadowy figures battle amongst themselves. Each time I tried to discern what the ship looked like exactly, it blurred even more until it was a shapeless splotch hovering above a blue-and-green marble in the void of space. When I drew my attention away, it sharpened again in my peripherals.

On the other hand, the figures were different enough to be classified as individuals, but I couldn't see any features that looked familiar. If I looked at them the wrong way, they seemed to flicker and disappear. When they spoke, it came out in a garbled tongue but somehow sounded like English at the same time. Except the words they said made no sense, such as "charts," or "rocket," and "below." But this didn't feel any more out of the ordinary than if I was having a normal conversation with someone. In fact, it seemed to be expected. But this whole situation felt so _wrong_.

I floated closer as the fight ensued for a few minutes, watching the hazy figures trade blows. They all appeared to be roughly the same in size, flickering and moving like shadows come to life. Suddenly my gaze shifted to one that was hanging back at the fringe of the fight. Another figure strode towards it, its shape rippling as I got too close. The shadow that had hung back suddenly ran towards it and began sweeping its sword—that's what I thought it was—at the other. The figure raised its arm, and the one with the sword staggered and fell.

All the others were melee fighting, every time the figures met it was as if they became one being, fused where the other's fist had connected. Then they broke apart and continued, apparently blind to the effects. For a brief moment, some part of me wondered what exactly I was witnessing. As soon as I thought I had almost made sense of it, time seemed to skip a step. The figures displaced, seeming as though to teleport a few seconds into the future. I suddenly found myself unable to even remember what it was that I was thinking about in the first place.

I had lost track of who was who in the pair, until one ran away and then dove off the ship, out of sight. The scene seemed to split in front of my optics, folding in upon itself, then back out again. It was as if time had skipped again, but this time it was a longer period than just a few seconds. I wasn't sure, because the same figure was falling down to the ground below. Suddenly an abrupt, blinding white light silenced everything, followed by a gentle, azure glow, folding into different shades around me.

The next thing I felt was the warm, slightly rough surface of the med berth under me, certain my helm was splitting. Someone was in the fuzzy background was yelling and I was freezing. My insides had been reformatted, fitted with malware and then microwaved. I vaguely remembered having a quilt, which was long since gone. The dream had left a bad taste in my mouth. The worst part was that the more I tried to remember it, the details grew hazier and hazier until I could hardly remember what it even had been about.

I coughed sharply around some sort of obstruction in my mouth, struggling to move. What looked like Ratchet's helm appeared above me for a brief moment before vanishing again. Something cold, three somethings suddenly appeared over my wrists and left ankle. I assumed one had sprung over my right as well, whatever they were. Hard and very solid.

I was scared. I couldn't figure out what was happening. When I forced my weak limbs to move, they were restrained by those _somethings_ over my limbs. I tried to speak, but I gagged, feeling a different _something_ still in my mouth. Maybe even down my throat. I swore my insides were melting and fusing together beneath it, and that if that _thing_ wasn't in my mouth, I'd be coughing up more than my own energon.

Then, through distorted vision I saw someone—at this point I couldn't hope to know who—lean over me with concerned optics, holding something in their servo. I pushed against the restraints, trying my best to snarl around the whatever-it-was in my mouth. The bot's optics looked much sadder now and he leaned over, saying something I couldn't hear. I cautiously watched him, and an idea suddenly dawned on me. _Morse._

I began to tap a finger against the berth in a jerky rhythm that made his optics widen: Dot, dot, dot, dot. Pause. Dot. Pause. Dot, dash, dot, dot. Pause. Dot, dash, dash, dot. Longer pause. Dash, dash. Pause. Dot. Over and over again, until he grabbed my servo, stopping me. I couldn't resist.

 _HELP ME_

He squeezed my servo, "We tried, Starscream."

* * *

To say that Seven had outshone them all was like comparing the sun to the moon. From the moment he shot off the ground, the contest was over as far as I was concerned. I struggled to keep up the show with my remote controller; anticipating the unpredictable jet's next moves was a chore.

I could tell from the way he dove into steep turns and corkscrews that would make you dizzy to watch that he was loving every second of this. He leveled out and I fumbled with my controller for a second. A few kids glanced at me, then focused back on navigating their non-autonomous vehicles.

"You got this," Will offered an encouraging smile.

"Who're you talking to, the jet?" I whispered back, shooting him a glance. My eyes flickered over to Tony, who stood with his hands buried in his pockets, watching Seven.

"How did you guys manage to build that?" He finally asked.

Will covered smoothly for me, "Oh, my dad knows a guy who's a mechanic–"

Suddenly someone off to my right hurled a rock at Seven. I couldn't see who, but I had a suspicion. The jet didn't need to avoid it, it fell at least five feet short of his tail wings. But he came to a halt, spinning around in the air to see who did it. Whispers broke out in the throng of kids.

Then two stones suddenly found themselves flying on a direct path to Seven. The jet clearly was unamused. He dodged the first, and flicked the second off his nose cone. A few of the kids next to me shot me worried glances, Will and Tony included. They thought I was showing off.

"C'mon Sev," Will muttered, warily eyeing the jet floating above us.

I nervously fiddled with the controls on the remote. There wasn't anything I could do, really, except watch and hope he didn't do anything rash. The jet had a hot temper, and if he lost his cool… well, I didn't want anyone getting hit by a missile. Not to mention that I didn't want to guess at his present mental state, what with everything going on around Starscream.

A kid wearing aviator sunglasses pushed through the crowd over to us, "Ha! Oliver and Will are cheating!" The boy shouted over the heads of the other students, who all had stopped to watch.

"Snitch!" Will growled under his breath.

The kid pulled off his sunglasses, flicking his wrist so they snapped closed. His clothes were expensive but not very nice, showing that his family had a lot of money that he evidently didn't care about. Every school had a what I called "that kid," which others called a bully, and this was ours. The others backed up, forming a tight circle around the four of us. I drew myself up, showing him I wasn't to be intimidated. A few more whispers swept through the crowd.

He stepped up close to me, pretending not to notice. "You know, cheating's dope." He slapped the controller out of my hands. Seven was still flying above us, stock still in a way that a jet from our planet would've found impossible, watching the scene unfold. No one had noticed yet. The kid bent down, making a big show of picking up a mid-sized rock. I glared at him. He smirked, hanging the sunglasses on the front of his jacket. Where were the teachers when you actually needed one? The kid then hurled the rock up at Seven, who swooped to dodge it, apparently seeing it coming.

"What's your problem?" Tony asked in an innocent manner that screamed sarcasm like bloody murder.

The kid didn't answer, gently depositing his sunglasses down next to his scuffed Adidas.

Will snatched them up then offered them to the kid. He reached out just as my friend dropped them, making sure it was obvious it wasn't on accident. "Oops, sorry." Then he stomped on them, "Whoa, my bad." He grinned, stepping back to reveal a pair of mangled, formerly expensive sunglasses. A few kids in the crowd guffawed at that.

The bully picked up another fist-sized rock and threw it at Seven. The jet remained motionless. This time it connected with his fuselage, letting out a loud _clang_ that made me wince. He entered a spiral, causing Will and I to gasp in shock.

"No!" I shouted, sprinting over to where the jet would fall.

The kid laughed, "Real nice plane you got there." Will and Tony ran along beside me, scuffing their shoes in the gravelly dirt.

I stopped, giving him a sideways look over my shoulder. "That plane could whoop your–"

"Seven!" Will exclaimed, watching the jet with a worried expression. I skidded to a stop, arms wide to rescue him from the unforgiving ground beneath my feet. I just hoped his wings wouldn't shear my arms off. I was rather attached to them.

But then, somewhat impossibly, Seven slowed enough that I only grunted when I caught him. I didn't even stagger when my arms wrapped around his wings.

I bent down, pretending to look for damage on his plating, "Are you okay?" I hissed.

His tone didn't sound pained as I had expected. In fact, it carried an undercurrent of fury so strong that I was astonished it hadn't drowned his reason. " _I am fine._ Now get that fragging human out of my sights from here before I relieve him of his head," he snarled viciously. On that note, he shot up out of my grasp and over our heads, blowing my hair into my eyes. Then the jet shot down once again and began to chase the bully.

The kid gasped in surprise and horror, bolting away. Everyone else was cheering, "Se-ven! Se-ven! Se-ven!" Will let out a loud whoop and pumped his fist. I grinned, cheering along with the rest of them.

Will then turned to me, a grin still etched into his features. "Dude, if we don't get an A+ I'm taking the school and all its staff to court!"

I punched him playfully, "Get a lawyer."

"Get a life." He shot back amiably.

Tony was the one that dragged me down out of my euphoria. "Oliver?"

"Yeah?"

"Where'd the remote go?" He wondered, having a façade of innocence that tried to mask suspicion that went for miles.

I blanched, my eyes falling on where it rested. A good distance away on the ground, not having moved an inch from where the kid had whacked it out of my hands.

Reading my expression, Tony stepped in front of me. He looked as imposing as a scrawny kid with curly hair could. "Spill."

I steeled myself, "No."

"Did you buy it somewhere?" He pressed. Out of nowhere, Seven banked over us and landed at my feet. I noticed with a smirk that the bully was long gone, and the crowd of kids had dispersed, losing interest.

"He's one of a kind."

Tony took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Please stop referring to it as a 'he,' it's just a stupid jet. Last time I checked, planes don't have genders." Seven's engine began to whine loudly and his thruster sputtered, spitting out tongues of flame. He was shuddering too, it probably was taking all his willpower not to transform. But I knew it was slipping fast. Tony waved at it, "See what I mean? That thing's got issues, man. I feel bad for that poor mechanic–"

That pushed the jet over the edge. He shot forward, sweeping Tony's feet out from under him, then up into the sky and back down again. His engine screamed over the wind, missiles at the ready.

"SEVEN, STOP!" I yelled with all the force I could muster. He halted in midair, his nose cone feet away from Tony's face. My friend watched him in terror. Will kicked a rock, chased after it, then kicked it again, cursing under his breath all the while.

"What is your flipping malfunction!?" I snapped, stalking over to the jet who bobbed in the air, not doing or saying anything. "Is your processor glitching! You could've killed him!"

Will glanced up, "Yeah, do you have any idea how much paperwork we'd have to do if you did?" He chuckled to himself, his generally pleasant demeanor returning.

The jet shuddered, then zoomed off and vanished around the backside of our school into the courtyard. I sprinted after him, shoving a few kids that were in my way. The remote laid forgotten a ways behind me.

* * *

I transformed, landing on a cobblestone pathway in a garden surrounded by a wall of tall, well-kempt hedges on all sides. The only thing that moved was a startled flock of birds. _The school's courtyard,_ I realized.

"I'll tell you what _my_ malfunction is, Oliver." I snarled, picking up a rock and hurled it through the hedge. "The only bot I've ever felt like family to is on his fragging deathbed!" That slagging human had no idea what he was talking about, how dare he insult me like that! But that wasn't the only thing making my servos itch. I felt so useless! No one had asked me to do anything in I didn't know how long, so I had become a babysitter for the humans. I threw another rock. And everyone was moaning over Starscream, while I watched on the sidelines. I didn't care that I was being selfish. I wanted Starscream back, the healthy, sarcastic, witty, arrogant one; not the one clinging to life back at base. I wanted him back as much as everyone else, maybe more. No, definitely more. I threw another rock just as Oliver ran through a gate and into the courtyard where I stood. He yelped, ducking to avoid it.

"What was that for!"

"I missed," I pointed out in case he had failed to notice.

He rolled his eyes, "Seriously, what's with you? You almost kill my friend and then zip off!"

"Go ask Starscream, I'm sure he can tell you." I spat.

"Dumb question, right." He sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. "But I didn't ask how Starscream's doing, I asked about Seven."

It was my turn to sigh. "I just… it's complicated. With you humans, the other Autobots, MECH, Starscream…"

"I see what you mean."

I was surprised, "You do?"

"Yeah. Want to go back to base?"

I tugged the ground bridge remote out of my thigh plating, more than glad that the conversation was over. "Be my guest."

"You said you didn't have that!" He exclaimed, seeing it.

"Did I?" I said innocently, activating it.

"I'll go grab Will," Oliver grumbled.

"No thanks, I'll grab him." Said Will, who walked through the gate, tugging on the shirt he was wearing.

I rolled my optics in exasperation, "Humans."

"Robots." He smirked.

"Eavesdropping is rude, you know." I bristled.

He walked through the bridge, waving me away. Oliver followed. I waited a moment, unsure of why I was hesitant in the first place. Shaking my helm, I trailed after them and into the swirling vortex. My tank plummeted to my pedes when I stepped through into the base.

 _What have I done?_


	18. 18 - Legacy II

XVIII - Legacy II

When I walked through the bridge, the base was in an uproar. Seven slipped away, transforming and rocketed down a hall, presumably to un-shrink himself. No one noticed us walk in and we jogged over to the platform and up the stairs to safety from the flurry of pedes running around. Ratchet was yelling at pretty much everyone in the base, reserving a more or less civil tone only for Optimus. I ran a hand through my hair, taking in the scene in front of me.

"What's happening!" I shouted over the din and looked to the Prime, who was trying to help Ratchet with something I couldn't see. He spun around, apparently surprised to find Will and I here. He didn't answer with words, instead gently nudged Ratchet out of the way of the med berth. Starscream laid there (as usual), though this time he was cuffed to it. He still had the IV hooked into his elbow, not to mention several other new lines and monitors that I failed to place names to. And there was a tube down his throat, which was new. It hurt to look at.

Ratchet seemed to read my thoughts, "He stopped intaking enough a few hours ago, and I don't want to risk removing the tube until he's gotten at least a little of his strength back. The fever will end him without it because his fans have all long since stopped working."

Bulkhead shook his helm, "Scream always has been a glutton for punishment… and he's only getting worse, right doc?" He frowned at the white medic.

"No one asked you." Arcee growled.

Ratchet cleared his throat, "This could merely be a temporary affliction from the red energon." He stated and looked to Seven, who had just entered.

The silver mech scrutinized the other Seeker's fragile-looking frame, watching how his chest plate rose and fell each time with a faint wheeze. But I saw he was trembling and trying to hide it. "Let's hope so."

* * *

Smokescreen and Knock Out came rocketing into the base and skidded to a stop. I winced at the loud screech of their brakes, my wings vibrating in annoyance. We all watched in surprise as Jack stepped out, grinning at a picture on his cell phone.

The human cracked up as Smokescreen transformed and leaned in for a closer look. "Ha! I am _so_ posting this tonight!" He gasped for breath in between laughs, "Arcee, Arcee! Check out Vince's car!" Jack held his phone higher so the femme could see it.

"The bully," she knelt down, glaring at the tiny display. It depicted a black muscle car with red and yellow flames painted onto it in an empty parking lot. Fast food and other trash was splattered over the hood and under the car. She seemed mildly taken aback.

The femme stood back up again, "Let me get this straight, you taught Smokescreen and Knock Out everything they never needed to know about fast food."

The human shrugged, "Hey, they passed Driver's Ed. Work hard, play hard."

"Yeah," the white mech agreed, smirking, "no humans were harmed in the making of these photos. Honest!" Arcee and Bulkhead exchanged exasperated looks. He was about to walk away when his optics fell on Starscream. "Whoa," he breathed, looking from him to Seven, to Ratchet, then back to the prone Seeker. "Is he–"

"Nearly," Ratchet answered gravely.

Knock Out looked him over, "Why didn't you comm me?"

"There is not anything you could have done." Optimus stated somberly.

The red medic frowned up at him, "Oh, I'm sure I could've done _something_ , Prime." He waved an arm at the Seeker, "Just look at the state he's in!"

Ratchet butted in sarcastically, "Thank you, but I have it under control, doctor." His tone was laced with contempt. The red medic huffed and rolled his optics, muttering something about "slagging human traffic laws."

* * *

Aboard the _Nemesis_ , Soundwave honed in on a specific location, a pinprick on a map in a swath of greenery. Megatron stooped over his shoulder plate, looking pleased. "You have decoded the next Iacon coordinates. Excellent, Soundwave," he straightened back up again. "Then it is time to beta test our decoy. I am sure the Autobots will be, ah, ill-informed of what they seek." The warlord held up a device that looked identical to the containers housing the relics in all but color, instead of blue, its silver was accented with red. However, like them, it was not empty.

The silent mech dipped his helm in silent acknowledgement, then focused his attention back onto the console's screens.

Megatron continued to speak, facing the blue mech again. "This," he held up the mock container for the mech to see, "is the instrument we shall use to debilitate the Autobots and rescue my dear second from their clutches," his grip tightened over the device. A few perforations in the side allowed for noxious fumes to seep out, tickling the mechs' nasal sensory nodes. The pair ignored it. Soundwave plucked the container from his master's grasp and opened a ground bridge. He transformed and spiraled off into its depths to the other side.

The warlord pressed a button on the console, and it vanished in an intense flash of white light. He sent the screens away and then clasped his servos behind his back, watching the front of his ship spear clouds from behind its thick, front windows.

"Soon, my dear Starscream. Soon."

* * *

The ping of an alert sounded from a scanner hooked up to my double. I jumped, looking towards the source of the noise. "What is that?" I asked, my voice an octave higher than normal.

Knock Out went over to see, "It seems he's waking up," a quiet sigh of relief escaped my mouth, "Ratchet, I would get over here."

The other medic went over to the berth and gingerly but quickly extracted the tube from down the Seeker's throat.

My banded wings flared up, "Why are you removing that if he still needs it? Have you no sense?!"

Ratchet glanced up at me, "If he wasn't intaking by himself, he would not be conscious."

Knock Out rolled his optics halfheartedly, "Everyone knows that."

"Clearly." My tone grew icy.

Starscream's talons dug into the berth and his chassis seized up as the end of the tube came out. "Easy…" Ratchet murmured softly to the Seeker. "Knock Out, what are his vitals?" He prodded brusquely, not even glancing up.

"Weak." He answered vaguely a second after scanning the screens next to the berth.

"Details!" Ratchet snapped, setting the tube aside on a table but keeping his left servo planted firmly on the Seeker's chest plate.

Knock Out took an intake, "Intakes are shaky and shallow but regular, pulse rate is stable, more or less." He sighed before continuing, "Energon pressure is low, but that's not what's worrisome. Temperature is well above normal levels―thirteen degrees―none of his fans appear to be functioning, which explains that. Let him see friendly faceplates, he'll likely be disoriented."

The silver mech's ruby optics onlined at their dimmest setting, darting around feverishly and he strained against his bonds with every ounce of strength in his enfeebled chassis. I saw with a sharp pang of worry that his entire right leg, hip to pede, remained limp against the berth. I couldn't bring myself to be that set of friendly faceplates, sick to my tank.

Ratchet saw where I was looking, "Even if he were to recover from this, he would never walk again. Not unaided, I guarantee you. And I doubt that Knock Out or I could rig up a crutch sophisticated enough to get the job done. I-I'm sorry." the medic's helm hung in defeat.

I took his comment with silence, walking over to my double's side with slow movements as one would approach a wild animal. I made sure I was in his field of view before speaking. "Starscream?" His name rolled off my glossa easily, but dropped like a brick.

He blinked up at me from the berth, squirming a bit beneath the shivers that were more like convulsions wracking his frame, electricity sparking on and off, arcing at us at times. "Am I dead?" He asked quietly, with a tone so keen that I was startled. "You-you're me…"

Everyone watched our exchange in silence, for which I was grateful. But I could hardly process that over what he had just said… _He didn't recognize me._ Was his processor being wiped? Could his RAM have been corrupted or erased?

I took a deep intake and willed my tone to be steady. But it came out reedy anyway. "Starscream, remember? I-I'm your clone. Seven? Remember?" I trailed off as his crimson optics flickered. But deep in those little red orbs something familiar glimmered and my spark seemed to lift ever so slightly.

He looked past me to the gritty ceiling of the missile silo and beyond. I snarled quietly to myself at the indisputable fact that the fading Seeker had to spend what have been more likely than not his last days bound to this rock, rather than in the air. He was unable to even see the sky at the very least. The mech looked like a caged bird that had nowhere to go even if he escaped.

Optimus looked down on him with gentle optics, glancing at the screens monitoring his vitals. He looked back at Starscream, "Your fever is lower."

"One degree doesn't look promising," Arcee pointed out, glancing at the screen monitoring his vitals.

The other Seeker shuddered heavily again and a stronger bolt of electricity zapped the medic. Ratchet's servo slipped and he grimaced, but pushed it back down on Starscream's chest plate and forced him to the berth again. My double fixed his gaze back onto the medic, then the Prime. "Thanks."

"You are welcome."

"Optimus, he needs to conserve what strength he has left," hissed Ratchet from the corner of his mouth.

"Don't break up the band!" Miko begged quietly.

Starscream let out a wet cough, a startling amount of energon bubbling out of his mouth. Judging by his expression, it hurt a lot. "I didn't deserve this," he sighed, glancing away for a second before looking back to them.

"No, Starscream, you didn't." Optimus agreed, and gently laid a large servo on his shoulder.

The Seeker coughed again and more energon made an appearance on his gaunt frame, "I-I deserve far worse. You know what, Seven?" he looked up at me.

"What?" I asked, stiff as a board.

"Make sure that you–" he coughed again, but more weakly this time. The electricity wracking his chassis fizzled out for the most part, only coming in sporadic bursts now. "We don't need to be identical for me to know you'll–you'll be fine. He looked past me, "All of you stub–stubborn bots will be fine. You'll be f-fine…"

"Don't feed me that slag!" I snapped, trembling. "Just keep fighting… I'm not giving you a choice."

He looked at me with glassy optics, a wry smirk gracing his faceplates, his voice hoarse. "Please. The choice–" he coughed, convulsing and gasping for air, then continued when he recovered somewhat, "the ch-ch-choice isn't up to you." I looked at Ratchet and he met my gaze, looking almost fearful. My emotions were roiling so much that I couldn't fathom what my expression said, but it was nothing good, surely. I grabbed the bases of a few cables hooked into places on the Seeker's armor and wrenched them out with a splash of fluids.

"Have you blow a major fuse?! What are you doing?" Ratchet gasped, rushing over to stop me.

My wings flared up with a sharp _snap!_ "Back. Off." I snarled quietly.

"Do you wish to end him sooner?" the medic snapped.

"He doesn't have much time anyway, why squander it trapped beneath this rock of a planet, bound to a table! He is a _Seeker_! It goes against every basic one and zero in our processors!" I roared. Ratchet, evidently taking heed of my words, removed his bonds, not looking pleased in the slightest.

"Se-ev, what are you…" Starscream croaked, looking up at me fearfully.

"Shh," I whispered to him in a much softer tone. I gently lifted him up off the berth, startled by how light he was. His hot, trembling chassis felt so pathetic that my spark twinged as I drew in an intake and looked down at him, while he looked up at me. My twin reflexively drew in on himself, shivering. I felt the shock from each sporadic burst of electricity, each weaker than the last.

He looked in Knock Out's general direction with glassy optics, "K-Knock Out, tell Megatron to fuh-file his claws… they h-hurt." His chassis seized up as he coughed wetly, discolored energon greeting me, the sound rending my spark. His dim, crimson optics flickered and he seemed to hover on the border of unconsciousness. I touched his cheek plate out of some instinctive terror, thinking that if he went out now, he wouldn't be coming back.

The red mech didn't quite know what to make of this. "I will," he squeaked.

"Shh," I said to him gently, feeling as though on the verge of losing it. "Megatron isn't here. He can't hurt you."

I strode down the hall to the hidden entrance of our base, cradling my emaciated double while telling him to be quiet and occasionally jostling him to keep him awake. The others trailed behind me at a close but respectable distance in silence, even as the rock that was the door moved from hidden mechanisms in the butte and I strode out into the glaring sunlight.

I laid Starscream down onto the dirt, being extra careful of his helm. A breeze passed through our wings and he sighed, relaxing. He looked genuinely happy for the first time in a long time. I laid down next to him, pressing the side of my chassis against his, wishing with all my spark for one simple thing: that he was better.

My optics scanned the sky, and settled on a portion that I felt like a compass needle inside of me was always pointing to. I raised my arm, pointing to it, "There's Cybertron, on the far edge of the Milky Way. We'll go back there someday together, maybe visit for a bit, you know, see the sights and all that. When the war's over, slag, we can travel the galaxy for all I care. Maybe build our own starship…" I chuckled wistfully, "Speaking of ships, remember when Will tried to order pizza from the _Harbinger_? An utter nightmare, I tell you." The words were just flooding out of me. I shook my helm, "And that time following when you got your T-Cog once again, you came back inside the base and Miko begged you to take her for a flight? She said the sky's the limit and challenged you to go―what, Mach six? She has no idea… you should have seen your faceplates! Also when she got her hands on the shrink ray… Primus, that was maddening; she was taller than me! _Me_ , I tell you! Well, we are the same height…" I kept rambling on, feeling that time would stand still if we hid from the present within the folds of the past.

"The sky," he shivered, cutting me off. "The skies of this planet are always so beautiful…" he gazed up at it, its cobalt color reflecting in his optics as they focused, turning his helm to see me better. The only clouds in those orbs were the ones reflected from the sky. "And to all of you, I'm fighting a losing b-battle…"

"For recognizing that, you have a true strength." Optimus said sadly. "It suits you." he added quietly, though I doubted he heard.

A wan smile flickered across my double's faceplates and another zap of electricity curled around his chest plate for a split second, then fizzled out. For a moment, a happier, almost younger mech shone through the weakened, dying mask. "Make sure you all aren't… just… you have to best Megatron…"

"I'm proud of the mech you have become," the Prime smiled back, kneeling beside him as his optics flickered.

Starscream's arm shakily reached up and his fingertips brushed against my cheek plate, right beneath my optic. "Seven—I never did tell you…" my double trailed off quietly, his optics glazing.

"Tell me what?" I urged, taking his servo.

"I didn't merely clone you to have another set–" he coughed, "another set of servos to put to work…"

"Starscream!" I exclaimed as he drew in a rattling intake and his optics dimmed, squeezing his servo. "Please, just–just tell me what you need to tell me."

He blinked hard and his optics grew brighter. "I cloned you to have a friend…"

I almost dropped his servo and suddenly felt streaks of lubricant down my faceplates. "Star…"

"I didn't get a friend," he stated quietly and gave me a languid smile. Some foreign instinct or bout of insanity propelled me to hoist him into a sitting position and wrap my arms around him, feeling the very life draining out of his chassis.

"Yes you did."

"See you later, brother…" he whispered knowingly in my audial. I pulled away, holding him up by his shoulder plates at arm's length and his sleek helm lolled.

"S-Starscream?" I whimpered, gently shaking him. He didn't answer and his helm lolled in the other direction, dark optics staring at the dirt. I pulled him to my chest and clutched his helm to my neck cables, feeling sick. "No… you don't know what you're saying, you won't see any of us later…" I whimpered, holding him tighter, "You can't… you can't just leave after all we've been through…"

Someone laid a servo on my shoulder and tried to pull me away but I resisted with everything I had. [Sev…] the Seeker finally slipped out of my arms for everyone to see and I wound up hugging myself, shaking with silent sobs.

"No…" Ratchet breathed, shoving Knock Out out of his way. He slammed his medical kit down onto the ground—I hadn't noticed that he had brought it out here with him—and whipped out what looked like an AED. "Clear! Come on, come on…" He administered a powerful electric shock to his chest plate. I stepped back, watching it all in a daze. Ratchet tried twice more, then Smokescreen laid a grabbed his arm, bringing him to a stop. "Doc, he's gone." The medic sagged and replaced the AED. My tank churned and a fist constricted my spark.

Bulkhead came over to me and got me on my pedes. I directed my attention to the fallen Seeker's chest plate, struggling viciously to get out of the brute's grasp. He seemed to know what I wanted, reluctantly relinquishing his hold on my shoulder plates.

Then something astounding happened. A smallish, bright, _thing_ seemed to struggle from his all-too still chest plating. As I got a better look, I saw it was silvery, a pulsating ball of energy that was both beautiful and vulnerable. I watched in awe as it hovered up to me and drew level with my faceplates, glowing with a soft, friendly whitish light.

"Starscream?" I whispered weakly, astounded but numb at the same time in a way I didn't entirely understand.

[Is that—his spark?] Bumblebee whirred in disbelief.

It seemed that it was. It bobbed in the air in front of me and I reached out to it curiously to make sure it was real, the tips of my talons inches away and closing. It jumped towards me, closing the gap between it and my fingers until I was touching it. The white spark let out a brighter pulse than any before, and I suddenly found myself lying on my back on the ground with no memory of how I'd gotten there.

"Sev, are you all right?" Smokescreen asked, offering a servo to help me up.

"What kind of question is that?!" Arcee gave him a disdainful look. I waved for them to be quiet and got up on my own, looking around. Knock Out pointed behind me, seeing that I was wondering where the spark had gone.

I looked around to find it bobbing the air as if worriedly watching me, giving off the air of concern.

"I'm okay…" I assured the spark quietly, not really sure of the words' meaning.

And then it zipped off, up into the sky and beyond. I was stunned into silence as we all watched its progress until it vanished from sight altogether.

"It's going back to Cybertron," Arcee breathed.

I was fairly sure I was shaking and bit my glossa. Some bot took me from behind and pulled me into a comforting hold—I didn't see who it was.

In the corner of my vision, Knock Out ran his servo over the offlined Seeker's faceplates, shuttering his optics. He could have been in recharge and looked no different. A pain the likes of which I had never felt before bled from my spark, somehow worse than any physical injury I'd ever endured. But oddly enough, it wasn't caused by something inflicted upon, rather the lack thereof.

I turned around and buried my helm into the bot's red chest plate, breaking down into sobs that I didn't even try to fend off.

* * *

I stayed far away from the others, having gotten tangled up and lost in my thoughts. It was apparent that there was controversy over where to bury his chassis, that I could glean from what the others were saying. My optics fell onto the Seeker's chassis covered in the patchwork quilt that the medics used to keep draped over him, covering the slight mech like a shroud in a cruel irony, one of his slender arms lolling out. From this, I could tell that they—meaning Ratchet and Knock Out—had removed his missiles for safety purposes. But as for the site, I didn't lend my preference, knowing that he would not want to be entombed within this planet for eternity. It was all equally horrible, but then again, there wasn't exactly an alternative. We—meaning he and I—were and are Seekers, made for the skies, not the dust and rocks. My chassis still shook with the occasional sob as I sat against the base of the butte, watching and cursing the cheery sun high above our helms. A balmy wind swept past my wings. No one came over to me, however, so I remained wrapped up in my own morbid thoughts, listening to the occasional _scrape scrape_ of dirt.

I started at the sound of Optimus' voice, then stood back up and walked over to them, dragging my pedes. His tone was dark, but he held his emotions in check and kept a stoic expression on his faceplates. "As of this day, we eight Autobots remain on this planet. In the end, Starscream chose to relinquish his function for our cause—for those he cared about rather than remain a pawn in Megatron's tyranny, as well as MECH and Silas' delusions." He took an intake before continuing, "And as Autobots, but also fellow Cybertronians, we must not allow his past misdeeds to define him. Rather, uphold his legacy in seeking to vanquish the Decepticons and bring peace to this world and our race." His voice took on a note of steely determination, and the others stood a bit taller as well.

Oliver stepped forward, looking up to me a brief moment before speaking. Although it had only been seconds, it felt like several minutes. "Optimus is right," he tried to smile but it came out more as a slight grimace and his tone somehow steadied, "Starscream wouldn't have wanted us to be crying over him and doing nothing. Even though we knew he was going to die," he hesitated for a split second before resuming his speech, "you know, because of the virus, he willingly sped it up to save Will and my family. I can't even say how thankful I am for that. But we didn't deserve it." He shuffled off back over to his friend's side, head hung.

To everyone's surprise, it was Arcee who spoke up next. Her tone was soft, and she was looking at me. "I will never forget that he took Cliffjumper from us. But Oliver's right, no one deserves to pass on like that. Just watching him fade like that," she paused, "I wish… I wish we could have reconciled our differences while we had the chance. But I hope that both Cliff and Scream are resting in peace."

She walked past me, but I touched the back of her servo, getting her attention. "Thank you," I said quietly, "for not saying harsh words."

Knock Out came forwards, his tone thick with emotion, "It was his choice, and we can't blame you all for that. No matter how squishy and vulnerable you humans are… h-he stuck up for you all." He swallowed quickly before continuing, "Other than Breakdown… he was the closest thing to a friend I had on the _Nemesis_ , even in the worst of times. Especially then. I never really realized we were friends—but now that he's gone…"

"The feeling was mutual." I agreed in a forced monotone, not trusting any of my emotions to do the talking for me, "I believe I can speak for him on that."

Optimus came over to me and made sure I looked at him before he spoke. "Seven," his tone was stern but gentle at the same time, "grief is natural, and we all have felt it in this war. All of us are more than willing to help," his optics seemed to smile at me, "but you must permit us to."

I glowered at him, "Your help is the last thing I need." He gave me a sad look, almost disappointed, but not hurt. Understanding.

I hated it. _Loathed_ it, with every circuit, fuse, one, and zero in my chassis.

Slowly, the other Autobots cleared out, going back into the base in pairs through the hidden entrance in the side of the butte. The four humans, including Jack and Miko, went in with Optimus last. The Prime gave me a final nod, somehow understanding. The two doors ground to a close over them, sealing them inside the former missile silo. Now alone, I transformed and flew up to Cliffjumper's empty grave and plucked a sizable stone off its peak, then scratched Cybertronian glyphs into its face. I jumped off the butte with the rock in servo, not bothering to transform and fired my thruster on my back, using it to slow my fall so I didn't break my legs. I landed lightly and walked over to the grave. Reading the inscription one last time, I set it down at the front of the mound, not even needing to take a step to reach it.

Then without a second glance, I transformed, flying low and close to the ground, a plume of dust flying up in my wake. My engine screamed as I flew faster and faster, almost beginning to overheat. But I continued to fly, away from the mound of freshly turned earth brushing up against Cliffjumper's rock pile. Away from the impersonal headstone that read:

 **HERE LIES STARSCREAM**

And towards the future, whatever it may hold.

* * *

 **A/N: This hurt to write. I always listen to music when writing, and for this chapter, "Good Grief" by Bastille seemed to set the mood. I would recommend it.**


	19. 19 - Legacy III

XIX - Legacy III

The atmosphere in the base was so subdued one could easily call it lethargic. Everyone either immersed themselves in aimless tasks or just sat and stared into space with sullen optics. A sudden, welcome ping from the console shattered the silence. They all watched through tired, somber optics as Ratchet dragged himself away from absentmindedly sanitizing the berth to investigate. The others shook themselves out of stupors, trying to be ready for anything.

"An Iacon locator beacon," Optimus stated, not sounding the least bit surprised as his azure optics fell upon the selected location—a sparsely populated region in northeastern Mongolia.

Ratchet's tone was grim, "It seems the Decepticons have already excavated the next relic."

"Ratchet, triangulate coordinates and activate the ground bridge." The Prime ordered. The medic strode away and pulled down the lever that opened a green vortex.

"Sev isn't handling this too good," Bulkhead murmured thoughtfully, looking to the medic.

Ratchet squared his shoulders, "Just… try to be supportive."

Optimus looked down at him, "I could not have said it better, old friend."

"Well, that's a relief." Arcee said dryly.

Optimus suddenly looked around, counting the Autobots' helms. "Where are Seven and Knock Out?"

The femme shrugged, "Dunno. KO and 'Bee were the first to go back into the base."

Bumblebee buzzed out a statement, raising his servos.

"None of you saw him?" Optimus confirmed. Everyone shook their helms.

"And Sev? I think he went for a flight…" Smokescreen trailed off, looking to the Prime.

Optimus shook his helm sadly, "I'm afraid time is what he needs right now. Perhaps we can all converse later, if that might be beneficial." the Prime sighed in resignation, "We cannot wait. Autobots, transform and roll out!"

* * *

In a large clearing surrounded by a taiga forest, drones operated mining drills, chiseling away at the base of a mountain strewn with boulders. Insections whizzed over their helms, wings buzzing loudly as they strained to lift the massive rocks out of the way.

Megatron glanced up at the _Nemesis_ floating high overhead, defying gravity. He opened a comm, "Dreadwing, report the troops' progress."

Aboard the warship, the blue Seeker examined the scene from above and compared it to the decoded set of coordinates. "Not much farther, my liege. The drones are nearly upon the relic as we speak." he answered with clipped syllables.

"Excellent." The warlord cut the link and resumed issuing instructions to a Vehicon and Insecticon. The drone trotted off and shoved a large boulder away as instructed.

He turned around at the glint of silver, "Lord Megatron," pointing to his findings. The warlord dismissed the Insecticon and strode over purposefully.

"I certainly hope that our new acquisition is of Decepticon origin." He rumbled, stepping up next to the drone. But then his scarlet optics widened in surprise and his mouth fell open in shock, "It cannot be…" the silver mech trailed off as two more Vehicons rolled away more boulders, giving him a better view of the relic. The hilt of a massive sword with a gold crossguard and sliver of a blade as silver as the warlord's paint was sheathed in yet another overlarge rock. There wasn't even a single hairline fracture.

The warlord's tone took on a deadly serious edge, albeit he still was astonished. "Power of this magnitude must never be allowed to fall into the servos of Optimus Prime. No matter what!"

Megatron stepped forward as all the Vehicons and Insecticons watched, gingerly wrapping his fingers around the sword's hilt. He held it tightly and tried to free it with all the brute force he could muster, grunting and growling at it all the while. It didn't yield an inch. But nor did the warlord. He then held it with both servos and planted a pede firmly against the wall of rock. Grunting turned into snarling, which escalated into a frustrated roar until he finally let go. Infuriated, he fired a multitude of shots at it with his fusion cannon. But when the smoke and dust cleared, the sword glinted innocently in the sunlight as if mocking him, unscathed.

"The rock is impermeable… the relic must be emitting a protective shield." The large mech hissed, eyebrows raising. But then he snarled, "It will only respond to the power of a Prime!" He turned and faced the fleet of Vehicons and Insecticons once again, determination blazing in his optics. "We will remove it if we have to take the entire mountain!"

* * *

The console's scanners pinged again in the Autobot base, which was now void of life save for Ratchet. But he liked it that way. The screens showed a location far from where the other Autobots were, in mideastern North America. His optics narrowed slightly and he opened a comm, "Optimus, I just picked up a _second_ Iacon locator beacon." The only answer he got was static crackling in his audials. "Optimus, do you read?"

* * *

On the other side of the failed comm, Optimus, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Arcee, and Smokescreen trekked through a misty fog. It clung low to the ground, swirling in smooth patterns and nuzzling their shins with each step they took.

The green mech sighed, looking over Arcee's shoulder plating and at the scanner she held. "No sign of 'Cons?" The femme glanced around at him, then exchanged a silent look with Optimus in agreement. The Prime returned it and kept walking, the others following obediently at his heels.

High above them flew Soundwave, carrying the false Iacon relic and beacon beneath him. He quieted his engines, sticking to the dense cloud layer. The communications officer pushed his thruster and shot off far ahead of the wayward band of his adversaries. They vanished behind him as a rolling wave of mist and fog overtook them, crashing into the ground and veiled them from his sight. But that meant that the silent mech was invisible too. He was pleased with himself and the device's capabilities, with the beacon installed in it, it was like tugging a dog around on a leash.

Soundwave swooped down and transformed, alighting on a small, rocky outcropping in a sea of mist. If he relied on a visual alone, he wouldn't have been able to tell if the ground had been two feet away or two hundred. The silent mech gently set the fake container down against the rock, ignoring its fetid fumes and transformed again. The fog fled when he blasted his thruster and shot up into the sky, well out of the reach of prying optics and audials. The Autobots, left far behind him, still suspected nothing.

The lure was cast, now the fish needed to take the bait. It may as well have been. Their plating flashed like scales in the slating light from mist condensing on their armor. The water droplets boasted a stunning array of hues, scattering light everywhere. They too were beacons, in their own dazzling way.

The five Autobots discovered their prize a few minutes later. [Look!] The yellow scout chirped and pointed to it in excitement. Smokescreen jogged over to him, a blaster at the ready. The other three followed close behind, with Prime taking up the rear.

"The relic," Bulkhead stated, uncannily proficient at stating the obvious.

"But no 'Cons," Smokescreen finished, sounding disappointed as he swept his helm around in search of threats that might lurk behind walls of fog.

"It would be foolish to let our guard down." Optimus added, optics narrowing at the relic's container. The Wrecker went to investigate and popped its lid off with ease, throwing it like a discus into the murk.

"Was that necessary?" The femme cocked her helm slightly at him.

The green mech looked ready to reply, but what he saw in the container silenced it. Instead he stumbled away from it, waving at the air in front of his faceplates to ward off the putrid stench. "Ugh, what is that?!" He exclaimed in disgust. "Smells worse than Megatron's shower!"

"You didn't get a look at what it was?" Arcee said in exasperation and strolled over to look herself. She abruptly looked up from the container, wearing a serious expression. "Optimus, have a look."

"Tox-En," the Prime rumbled in disgust.

* * *

Knock Out and I walked into the base side by side, an uncharacteristically somber air about us. "The headstone was a nice touch," Knock Out said, glancing up at me next to him.

I ruffled my wings, my voice still sounding weak, "Well, it's better than nothing, that I can assure you."

He shook his helm slightly, "Seriously, 'here lies Starscream'?" My optics widened at the realization, then narrowed. "Fitting, nonetheless." he quipped. I slapped him sharply. "OW!" the mech yelped, cradling his arm away from me, "What was _that_ for?!"

"Everything," I hissed.

"Will you two keep it down!" snapped Ratchet from the main console. "Arcee? Bulkhead?!" He barked into a comm link, receiving only static as a reply. "Can anyone hear me?"

I frowned at the medic's back, "How fantastic, this day couldn't get any worse and yet it finds a way."

"What's happening?" The red mech beside me pressed.

The other medic didn't even glance back, still fiddling with the console before him. "Our sensors detected a second Iacon locator beacon," he exclaimed, turning to face us, "but I can't reach Optimus."

"I'll go." We offered simultaneously.

His expression softened, "Are you certain you want to–"

"Yes." I replied cooly, challenging him with my optics as I flexed my wings.

He considered it for a brief moment, visibly biting his lip. The medic finally caved, sighing in defeat. "Fine." He then opened the ground bridge and returned to his task at the console, whatever that might have been. "Fine," he muttered again.

Knock Out and I exchanged a glance. "After you," he made a sweeping gesture towards the open vortex. A retort bit at my glossa but I held it still, walking through without complaint.

* * *

The red medic hung back for a moment with the other, "Don't you think Seven's been acting a bit… strange?"

Ratchet snorted derisively, not looking up. "I'd be more concerned if he wasn't. Knowing him, he'll try to play the part and act like nothing's wrong, but keep an optic on him. We've already lost one of ours today."

"I'll keep that in mind," Knock Out agreed, and walked through the portal after the Seeker.

* * *

I tapped my pede in impatience, staring up at the coniferous trees that loomed above me like eerie sentinels. Their branches scraped together in a dry, rustling way, bristling with needles, dry fingers scratching at the sky. The air had a chill to it that Nevada lacked, fortunately for us. No matter what season of the year, that arid desert remained static. But not here though. Here, winter crept closer with each passing day, and a bitter one at that. One that would be completely alien to our base full of, well, aliens. I felt a pang of sympathy for Starscream as a memory surfaced of him embarking with Optimus for Antarctica. It would undoubtedly be much more frigid there than it was here, even in the summer months.

Starscream. The thought of my double brought on an ache so powerful that it caused my helm to throb. I couldn't tell whether I was imagining it or not. My tank churned with nausea, I felt energon trying to creep up my throat. I gagged and pushed it down, struggling to regain control of my emotions. Knock Out was right: sometimes one doesn't realize what they have until its gone. But now was not the time to grieve. Who knew how many Decepticons were nearby, and if they were, I knew with absolute certainty that they would leap at the chance to catch easy prey.

I blinked suddenly as Knock Out stepped out of the bridge, detaching myself from one of the tall trees. I saw that I had gouged deep claw marks into its soft bark and beyond and prayed that the medic hadn't noticed.

He appeared not to have and motioned towards a pile of large boulders that marked the edge of a ridge, surrounded by a copse of trees. We both darted over, warily on my part, and took cover behind them. I lowered my wings to better hide myself from unwelcome optics. A group of Vehicons and Insecticons were loosely crowded around the face of a single, massive boulder. I saw that the _Nemesis_ floated high overhead, but the Decepticons on the ground paid it no heed. Curious, I was about to step out from behind the rock to afford a better look, but Knock Out jerked me back.

"It's a sword," he hissed to me. I nodded silently in understanding, but then my optics widened.

"That's not just any sword," I hissed back, "it appears to be the Star Saber—what's known to be a legendary weapon forged by Solus Prime. As lore would have it, it is rumored to wield the power of the Matrix."

The red mech nodded, "Indeed, Mr. Anderson."

I scowled at him, feeling my wings begin to twitch with irritation. "Those drones won't even stand a chance," the ghost of a sinister smirk graced my faceplates. "If I were to be behind such a blade…" I grinned maliciously at the thought.

"But the Insecticons would, so keep dreaming." His optics suddenly widened in surprise, "Megatron! I thought he would–"

"Never mind what you thought," I snapped, glaring at him.

He looked at me sideways, " _What_ has gotten into you? Where's all that famed cowardice?"

I ignored his question, "Ah, but why doesn't my former master just take it? Does he not want to mar its magnificence with his oily claws?" Knock Out silenced me with a glare.

"We should wait for backup," he advised, "Primus knows what he could do with the thing in his grasp!"

"Which is why we need to get it _now_!" I fought back. Sick of wasting time arguing with the medic, I hurled myself over the boulder and made a beeline for the Decepticons. Namely, Megatron. I heard Knock Out following behind me after hesitating for a second, his pedes scraping and scrabbling less gracefully over rocks.

* * *

"ENOUGH!" Megatron bellowed at his troops in frustration as an Insecticon flew over his helm carrying a sizeable boulder. He opened a comm to Dreadwing aboard the _Nemesis_. "Commence transport!" A small claw attached to a strong but thin steel cable fell out of the bottom of the warship and found a grip on the top of the boulder that the sword was stuck in. Though as I drew closer I got a better picture of its sheer size. It towered over all of us like a behemoth, almost as tall as the warlord's ship was long. He watched it in anticipation, a slight malicious smile on his faceplates, but it quickly fell into a scowl at the sound of blaster fire.

In the meantime, I hurled myself over another large rock, not transforming my own blasters out just yet. My legs churned faster, heel struts pounding deep divots into the soft earth. Soon enough I was within shouting distance of the warlord. I dodged a bolt of red plasma, not even bothering to seek shelter behind a boulder. Instead, I slowed to a trot and stood up straight, putting on a confident smirk. For some strange reason, it came with ease even though I knew that I should have been terrified. Starscream certainly would've been. I strolled past the drones, my optics not even sliding over them. "I am not here to fight," I said lightly.

To say the least, Megatron was skeptical. "Oh, really? And what is it that you wish? Because if I do not find your answer to be satisfactory, there will be plenty of energon spilled." But the Vehicons and Insecticons took the cue and stood down, lowering their weapons, however, not with complacence.

"What are you doing?" Knock Out hissed nervously.

I ignored him.

"Lord Megatron, it is a pleasure." I purred, and bowed deeply at his pedes.

He glared down at me, looking ready to power up his blaster or slice 'n' dice me with his sword. "To what is it owed?"

"Nothing, my liege." I replied, my helm still lowered respectfully. "I am, and always will be, at your command as a humble servant." I looked up, seeing Knock Out's jaw had dropped.

"So, you come crawling back with more problems than you're worth, my dear Starscream, and expect to be accepted back among the Decepticons with open arms? And you joined the Autobots, did you not? I believe the last time we met, you tried to tear out my spark with your bare servos." He stated calmly in a mildly discouraged tone, as if pondering that it might rain. I steeled myself at the mention of the dead Seeker. Again, in the similar circumstances, as I could tell from my double's memories, he had been quaking in his pedes. So why wasn't I terrified out of my wits?

But when I spoke again and stood, my voice was as steady as my legs, which, to clarify, felt rooted to the ground. "My Lord, it is with deep regret that I remember my deluded actions. The Autobots had me under the influence of multiple–"

"I am not here to listen to your prattle, Starscream." The warlord's tone was now icy.

I silently chastised myself, "Of course, my liege. My apologies. However, I was held captive against my will along with Knock Out here," The red mech gave a slight, stunned wave. He looked as though in a trance, optics clouded with disbelief. "But we both managed to escape the clutches of those wretched Autobots," one of my servos balled into a fist, "back to our rightful Lord and Master."

He watched the pair of us through narrowed optics, and this time I couldn't help but squirm the tiniest bit beneath his gaze. "You were mistreated?"

The medic and I exchanged a glance, "Not exactly, my liege…" the red mech trailed off, looking to me for support.

I jumped on the opportunity with the fervor of a starving mech over energon cubes. "What Knock Out means to say is: they held us captive for many long, arduous months," I scowled, "an energon cube was delivered daily to each of us, but we were penned up in the same cage for Primus knew how long–"

"Spare me the dramatics, Starscream." Megatron snarled, his patience waning fast.

I cleared my throat, not to be deterred easily. When push came to shove, I, for once, was going to shove back. "So, my liege, are you going to welcome us back into your ranks, or will we have to force your arms open?"

He seemed mildly surprised at the retort but hid it fast enough that I wasn't sure whether I had imagined it or not. It was replaced with a slight, triumphant smile, just a twitch at the corners of his mouth, really. "And when you were furiously trying to extinguish my spark, you were still being held 'captive'?"

"My actions were justified, given that you were trying just as hard to snuff mine." I replied cooly.

The warlord chuckled darkly, "Of course they were." His tone brimmed with a subtle sarcasm.

I turned to face the red mech for help, "Kno–Knock Out?" He had seemingly vanished.

* * *

"Optimus! Frag it, Prime, answer already!" The red medic spat into a comm, hiding on the other side of a mid-sized boulder.

Thankfully, the leader of the Autobots did. "Knock Out, what is wrong?"

The red mech shook his helm, "It's Seven, I don't know. I think he's lost his processor. Completely and utterly gotten fragged in the helm. Scream's death must have unhinged him somehow–"

"What makes you think that?" Arcee queried on the other side, her voice much softer, probably coming from farther away.

"The fact that I'm watching him trying to force Megatron to give him his place back is a fairly bad sign, I'll say." The medic drawled.

"What!?" Bulkhead exclaimed, sounding closer than Arcee.

"Do you know why, Knock Out?" Optimus asked, worry penetrating his tone.

The red mech sighed, "I'm a doctor: if I knew what was wrong, I would've gone over there and fixed it for frag's sake!" He spat and his tone sank to a mutter, "I knew I never should have allowed him to tag along… he must be blaming us…"

"Where are you?"

"At the relic! Where are _you_?"

The Prime took a moment to respond, "Are you certain of your location?"

"I'm staring right at it, Prime."

Smokescreen's voice came over the link this time, "Well, so are we."

* * *

At the medic's words, Optimus closed the comm went over to investigate the relic again and make sure that they hadn't missed something. "It is enriched Tox-En, several times more potent and fast-acting than the naturally-occurring crystal."

"What of it," Arcee replied scathingly, "if it's really the relic, it's useless to us anyway." She became increasingly more animated as she spoke.

Smokescreen cut in, "And if it's a 'Con trick, they should've planted, like, a grenade or something that would actually hurt us in it! I mean, come on! It's not like we're going to just sit in a circle and play hot potato with it!" Everyone looked at him. He cleared his throat awkwardly, "Sorry."

"We get it," Bulkhead agreed, now looking to Optimus, "but if it is, why didn't the 'Cons just blow us up? We certainly weren't expecting it."

[Look, there's something else in there.] Bumblebee pointed at the Tox-En, getting as close to the poisonous energon as he dared. Once again, they all crowded in around it, optics following the line of the scout's finger. Trapped inside the crystal like an insect in amber was a clear vial half-full with an equally transparent, colorless liquid staring back. They all had already guessed what it was, sparks plummeting to their pedes.

"Megatron had the antidote," Optimus breathed.

* * *

"So," the warlord began again, focusing his stare back on me, making sure I didn't try anything, "why should I spare you only to be rewarded with your traitorous deeds? I'm feeling generous," he sneered, "and will allow the virus to take its course through your systems, rather than terminate you here and now." The cable attached to the gargantuan rock thrummed as it snapped taut, and slowly, ever so slowly, the _Nemesis_ began to rise it into the air.

I started. "Y-you know about that?!"

His expression darkened and his sneer deepened, "I had a reliable source."

"'Had?'"

"He ceased to be of use."

"Ah," I cleared my vocalizer.

Before either of us could continue, a ground bridge opened behind me and five sets of pedes clomped out. I whirled around, thinking some of Megatron's reinforcements had arrived.

But Optimus, Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, and Smokescreen merely stared at me in shock, a container clutched in the Prime's servo. Mixtures of horror, blatant disbelief, deep feelings of betrayal, and even disgust were plastered to their faceplates. At the moment, I couldn't care in the least.

* * *

 **A/N: Oh Seven, vacationing in Hell would feel nice right now...**


	20. 20 - Legacy IV

XX - Legacy IV

The warlord's optics fell onto Smokescreen, "Who in the pits of Kaon is that?!"

The white mech cocked his helm at the larger mech, "Why? Who wants to know?" he simpered.

"Oh, I would like to make sure I spell your designation correctly on your tombstone," Megatron snarled.

Smokescreen jeered, "Nice try. I'll make sure to wear a name tag for the memorial."

Piqued, Megatron turned his attention back to me. "The matter of the virus remains a topic to be discussed, do not forget that. But for now, Starscream, as a test proving your loyalty and worth: destroy the Autobots or face the consequences. I can assure you they would be most unpleasant."

I transformed out my blasters and slowly stalked closer to them, "It will be my honor." I bristled. The others took on various wary defensive stances.

Knock Out's arm suddenly shot out and pushed my chest plate back, he had suddenly found his voice. "What the FRAG are you doing!?" He berated, stepping in front of me and shielded my view of the Autobots. I kept my blasters out. "YOU JUST THINK THAT YOU CAN GO RUN BACK TO MEGATRON AND THEN TERMINATE YOUR ONLY ALLIES!? YOUR FRIENDS, SEVEN, YOUR _FRIENDS_!"

"Get out of my way or I swear to Primus, I will shoot you." I growled softly, not wanting to repeat myself.

His optics widened slightly and his mouth opened in surprise, but he wisely sidled his way out from in front of me. I knew full well that the real reason Megatron had pitted me against my former allies was for his own entertainment; at the moment he couldn't care less whether I lived or died. An added bonus would be if we destroyed each other, but that was unlikely considering how there were five of them and one of me. If I had Starscream… no, I wasn't even going to think about that. I channeled all my grief and fear into anger instead, and let loose a roar I previously would've thought my vocalizer incapable of. If I was to actually fight the five Autobots and potentially Knock Out too, it was very doubtful that I would see tomorrow. To Pit with everything.

They all watched me through wary, cautious optics, unsure of my next moves. I raised my blasters, still wide out in the open. "He's lost it, completely, utterly, scattered his marbles…" I heard the red medic trail off beneath his vocalizer. My blasters powered up, and finally the Autobots, seeing that this wasn't a ploy after all, dove for cover and transformed out their own weapons.

"Seven!" Optimus called out to me. I swung my helm around sharply to see him.

"Seven, that is your new designation, isn't it?" Megatron said slowly, testing the word out like how one would a flavor that they didn't particularly care for. "So be it, but you shall always be Starscream to me, my dear Seeker."

"Seven!" The Prime called out again, ignoring the warlord's comment. "Stand down! We must not allow the relic to fall into Megatron's servos!"

I didn't realize I was walking until I was feet away from the Prime, no longer hiding behind the boulder for cover. I was within striking distance, but stood stock still, looking up to him with icy optics. "You all killed him. YOU KILLED HIM! YOU COULD'VE HANDED HIM OVER TO MECH BUT YOUR FRAGGING PRIDE DIDN'T ALLOW YOU TO, NOW DID IT?!"

There was a collective gasp among the Autobots. "That's not true!" Bulkhead protested indignantly.

"There was nothing we could've done!" Arcee spat.

Smokescreen jumped in, "Ratch tried–"

"And he failed!"

[He tried!]

"Seven, we tried everything we could to save him." Optimus shook his helm sadly, "Ratchet and Knock Out did their best, but it was not their fault, nor any of ours that he passed. And thinking otherwise will only create further division among us."

"Says one of the mechs that started this war in the first place." I replied scathingly, my wings flaring up.

"And you're crawling back to the other one!" The femme exploded.

I trained a blaster on her, "One more word…" She glowered at me with all the hate she could muster, which was enough to even debilitate Megatron, but fell silent.

"Finish them," The warlord ordered from behind me, a sneer permeating his tone.

I glanced back at him, then back to the Autobots in front of me. And fired.

The shot missed Arcee's shoulder plating by inches. She sprang away and transformed out a blaster, crouching behind a rock for cover. The others did likewise.

"Seven, surrender!" Optimus barked in a commanding tone. None of them had returned fire yet. For a moment everything was at a standstill, save for the _Nemesis_ struggling to lift the boulder that was more so worthy of the title "mountain" by a sturdy cable that was a thread in contrast.

"Same to you, Prime!" And I opened fire again, diving behind a stray boulder. None of the Decepticons behind me or even Knock Out stepped in to help, merely watching with an almost eager anticipation. Lucky for the Autobots, all my shots missed badly, whizzing past their helms and fizzling off into the distance.

A sudden blast of blue plasma wedded the right side of my helm and I went sprawling. My vision blurred for a second and one of my blasters transformed back into a servo and jumped up to the injury instinctively. I winced slightly at the touch of hot metal, small spikes of pain driving into my helm.

I ignore it and scrambled back up to my pedes again in a crouch, lower behind the same boulder this time. I saw Arcee had fired the shot, wispy tendrils of smoke curling off the tip of one of her blasters. She looked mostly rueful but her expression was conflicted; she clearly had aimed to hit me, but didn't want to cause damages either. But I didn't fail to notice that there also was a small glimmer of satisfaction in her optics. _I never will understand femmes, or females of any species_ , I thought wryly.

I fired a few more shots at them but they had all crouched lower behind their rocks. As soon as I stopped, afraid of overheating my blasters, Optimus sprang to his pedes. I shot a glance over my shoulder plates and saw, to my relief, that Megatron seemed otherwise occupied with the drones. I hurriedly transformed one of my blasters away and made sure to get the Prime's attention. He looked to me in surprise, and I pointed to the sword lodged in the boulder. His optics widened slightly, then he nodded in understanding.

"Go!" I hissed. The Prime nodded and tossed the container he was carrying to Bumblebee, then tore off towards the ascending rock. The sword was still lodged firmly inside of it. Little wisps of tawny-colored dust trailed off the floating mountain like it was bleeding from the stab wound.

Knock Out looked to me from my side, a new hope kindling in his optics just as Megatron swiveled his helm back over to us. I glared at the medic and transformed out my blasters once again. He quailed, all signs of hope immediately extinguished.

* * *

The _Nemesis_ creaked and groaned in protest while it slowly hauled the immense boulder into the air. Optimus drove up the side of the mountain that it once was a part of, growing steadily closer to his dangling prize. "Starscream! We must not allow the relic to fall into the servos of Optimus Prime at all costs!" He bellowed at Seven. "AFTER HIM!"

"Understood, my liege." The clone answered obediently and transformed, rocketing off up after the Prime. "Keep Prime from the relic!" Megatron barked at his drones before transforming and followed behind his former second's clone, thrusters blazing with purple fire as he pushed his thrusters to catch up with the speeding jet.

Smokescreen transformed out a blaster and aimed it at the warlord, but a drone behind him transformed his out as well, leaving them at a stalemate. Then out of nowhere, a blue shot of plasma materialized and connected with the drone's helm. He crumpled to the ground and in his place stood Bulkhead.

The green mech smiled at the younger mech as he transformed a smoking blaster away, "I got your back, newbie."

* * *

I poured on speed as Optimus drove by beneath me, trying to shield him from Megatron's blaster fire. "Starscream!" He snapped, "Why aren't you shooting!?" I hadn't wanted to waste my precious missiles, but now I was being forced to. I fired the one on my left and it spiraled down towards the Prime, and exploded behind him. The blast was enough to rocket him into the air like a projectile and towards the suspended mountain. He transformed, battle mask sliding out.

I halted in midair from shock. I knew I wouldn't be able to rescue him–frag, I was too light of a build to successfully carry a mech of his stature.

Somehow, impossibly, his outstretched fingertips caught the hilt of the Star Saber. His grip tightened around it and he swung violently, threatening to slip off but held firm.

"Inconceivable!" Megatron roared, firing at him once again. Optimus swung back and forth, dodging the shots, until the sword began to glow with a soft, blue light. But it slowly became blinding. I saw all the other Autobots and Decepticons on the ground pause their fighting to watch in awe and horror.

Optimus' optics widened in shock, their blue glow matching that of the sword perfectly. And then he was falling, its hilt still in his servo, followed by the blade. It had an open space in the middle to allow for less air resistance in difficult maneuvers, long enough that it was nearly as tall as myself, and tapered to a cruel, curved point.

I gasped as the massive blade finally came all the way out and he began to fall. I dove after him, not caring that Megatron had flown up to his ship, pursuing Optimus as if fleeing death. But I was too late. He crashed in a heavy plume of dust, a faint blue glow still emanating from somewhere within it. Stricken, I screeched to a halt in midair and transformed, landing nimbly on my pedes and began to look for the Prime. I coughed sharply after getting a considerable amount of dust into my intakes. The ground seemed to shake with aftershocks, and a gust of wind quickly quickly made the scratchy dust a memory.

Optimus wasn't a Cybertronian pancake after all, I soon learned. He knelt on the ground, helm bowed, sword lodged halfway up to its crossguard into the earth, still glowing with that iridescent blue light. He slid it out as if the rocky ground beneath our pedes were butter, examining it reverently. Awestruck, I gazed at the sword, riveted to its otherworldly glow.

Arcee's anxious voice snapped me out of my reverie. "Optimus, retreat!"

"NOW!" Bulkhead bellowed, slashing a servo through the air.

I whirled around at the sound of a deafening cracking and rumbling. The massive boulder that the sword had been stuck in was now rolling down the mountainside straight towards us.

Optimus turned around almost calmly, with something new in his optics that I'd never seen before. It was terrifying. I screeched, trying to bolt out of the path of the mountain bearing down on us, but the Prime raised his sword… and with one clean slash, he cleaved it right in two.

"Did he just…" Bulkhead trailed off, dumbstruck.

"I'm seeing things… that can't… that couldn't have…" Knock Out trailed off, shaking his helm in disbelief.

A burning pain suddenly erupted in the back of my helm. Then the world did a front flip and the ground decided to say hello to my faceplates.

* * *

Arcee transformed her smoking blaster away and Seven's form crumpled to the ground. Everyone looked to her, aghast.

"What?" She huffed. "He'll be fine."

Optimus glared up at the _Nemesis_ , his expression transmitted through a camera on the warship's hull to a screen on the bridge, where it met the warlord's astonished faceplates. But then it fell into a snarl and he roared in anger, whirling around and charged through the halls of his ship to the flight deck. Megatron transformed, shooting up into the sky then back down with Soundwave on his tail, rocketing towards the ground. His blasters blazed in fury. They both transformed, Soundwave with the resonance blaster aimed at Optimus, Megatron with a pede planted on top of Seven's unconscious chassis.

The Prime fumed, looking ready to impale Megatron with his new toy. The others trained their blasters on him. "Ah, ah, ah, I wouldn't." The warlord snarled softly and pressed down on the clone's chest plate a little harder. The Prime and the rest of the Autobots took a reluctant step back, but he kept the Star Saber at the ready. Megatron scooped the Seeker's chassis up with ease, and Soundwave motioned to Knock Out.

"What do you want _me_ for!?" The red medic protested.

Soundwave merely opened a ground bridge in reply and shoved him through. Megatron ran after them with the unconscious Seeker still in his arms.

The Autobots were dumbfounded when the bridge closed, their elated mood falling into a grim one.

"Now we've lost three," said Bulkhead.

"We will get Seven and Knock Out at all costs!" Optimus rumbled, stabbing his sword into the ground. The blue glow diminished slightly. "This I vow."

* * *

High above them, Megatron's warship flew off into the distance, reveling in its own small victory. Beneath it, the Star Saber started humming in the Prime's grasp. He lifted it up, staring at it as the blade as it glowed brighter than ever.

"Optimus?" Arcee asked.

"Sir?" Smokescreen added tentatively and waved a servo in front of the Prime's optics.

"I am receiving a message," Optimus answered, his gaze unwavering from the glowing blade.

"From whom?" Bulkhead wondered.

"Alpha Trion."

* * *

 **A/N: Ah, references.**


	21. 21 - Alpha, Omega

XXI - Alpha, Omega

"Forgive me, Lord Megatron. While I do not question the wisdom of our tactical retreat," Dreadwing said aboard the bridge of the _Nemesis_ , standing behind his master, "know that I am fully prepared to lead our troops in a counterattack against the Autobots."

" _Counterattack_?" Megatron exclaimed, turning to face his first lieutenant. "Perhaps you failed to notice Optimus Prime cleave an entire mountain with a single blow. With the Star Saber in his possession, my enemy can obliterate us all with a wave of his servo! But fortunately for we Decepticons, I have recently acquired a powerful bargaining chip."

Dreadwing was incredulous. "You are suggesting that we would cure Starscream and hand him back to the Autobots in exchange for the Star Saber?"

"Indeed."

"Though I understand your motives, that action would hardly tip the balance of power back in our favor, my liege." Dreadwing countered respectfully with clipped syllables. "That aside, do we not also possess a powerful relic of the Ancients?"

The warlord hummed thoughtfully, "Yes; the Forge of Solus Prime. But it is the equal of any other hammer, unless in the servos of a Prime." But then an idea began to dawn on the warlord, and he cackled with triumph. "But I might wield that power, if I were to control such a servo."

* * *

"Optimus, what's the Big 'A' saying?" Smokescreen prodded, watching the Prime gaze in blank rapture at the sword in his servos. Optimus ignored him, still staring at the Star Saber, drinking in its light. Then suddenly, he seemed to snap out of a trance and groaned, sinking to the ground.

Arcee rushed over, "Optimus, are you alright?"

"I am fine, Arcee." He rumbled, already standing back up.

Smokescreen bounced on his pedes, "So, did Alpha Trion ask about me?"

Bulkhead shoved the eager white mech out of the way, "What was the message?!"

Optimus swept his gaze over his fellow Autobots as a breeze whistled past them, "It is paramount that we recover the four remaining Iacon relics: the Omega Keys."

His words didn't have quite the effect he had anticipated. "Keys?" Arcee asked.

[To what?] Bumblebee chirped.

"To the regeneration of our home planet." The Prime stated solemnly.

* * *

The _Nemesis_ floated far above the Earth, a gleaming blue and green marble miles upon miles beneath it. A bright, passing flash of light signaled the orbit of an artificial satellite too distant to make out the details of, and vanished once again into the void opposite it came. "Earth's moon is a barren rock, is it not?" Dreadwing said to his master from atop the flight deck over a comm. Megatron responded across the link, albeit he was standing right next to the mech. Sound couldn't traverse through space, after all.

"Indeed, Dreadwing. But the moon is not our destination." The warlord replied matter-of-factly. As the warship drew closer to said "barren rock," a space bridge peeked out from the other side. They passed by so close to the moon's surface that when their sharp optics zoomed in on the dusty surface, the blue Seeker thought he might have glimpsed a red-and-white striped flag. But it was gone in an instant and he shook his helm slightly, boiling it down to his imagination.

He jerked his attention back to the task at hand as Megatron looked at him with intense optics, "A space bridge?"

"Our very own." Megatron answered. "Relocated here after the Autobots discovered its whereabouts on Earth. The dark side of the moon is hidden from prying human eyes," he stated, "and more importantly, well out of the Autobots' reach. Come, Dreadwing!" He ordered, back to business. "We shall travel to the one place in the galaxy which may provide us with a means of defeating Optimus Prime." He ran forwards and with a swift leap, transformed and flew off into space, the blue Seeker right behind him as the pair flew through the space bridge.

* * *

I moaned softly and pried open my optics. The back of my helm throbbed terribly. A smooth, lukewarm surface rested beneath me, pressing up against my wings. Dull, hazy, purple lighting shone down from an unknown source. A familiar red mech stood over me, his servos planted on his hips in a patronizing sort-of way.

"You're much more likeable in stasis." He said, dropping his servos.

My voice was raspier than normal, "What did I miss…?" My helm throbbed with each beat of my spark.

The medic sighed, "Not much. But you're not going to like where we are…" he trailed off, scrutinizing my frame.

"Wh-where are we?" I asked, my voice thick with exhaustion as I watched him behind bleary optics.

"In the med bay," my mind was still too muddled to discern whether he was being intentionally vague or not. "Your systems were fraught with glitches—namely your processor. That shot you took to the helm from Arcee wasn't doing you any favors, nor was, well, all the emotional strain recent events have put on you…" Knock Out cleared his throat awkwardly, "and I surmised that the seemingly impossible act Optimus did with that sword, well…" his tone was laced with awe as he shook his helm, "one doesn't have to be a doctor to guess at the consequences. But you were only out for a short while, so that counts for something."

I sighed, "I do feel a bit better now, doctor."

He smirked, "Of course you do, _I'm_ the doctor here, aren't I?" The medic puffed his chest plate out arrogantly.

"Come closer," I whispered.

He leaned in expectantly and I slapped him.

Knock Out jumped back reflexively, his tone becoming shrill. "What was that for?!"

I didn't answer and instead pushed myself into a sitting position, leaning back on my arms as I tilted my helm upwards and drank in my surroundings. I was about to reply, but then the air was whisked out of my vents. The med bay I was in was familiar, alright, terribly familiar. I was aboard the _Nemesis_ , I realized with shock. A large part of me suddenly wished that I could spontaneously black out again, sparing me from the horror.

I trembled, "No, this can't… there's no way…"

"Easy," Knock Out said softly, putting on a gentle expression that looked forced as he laid a servo on my arm.

I whimpered, only shaking harder, "No… please, we couldn't have… _no_!"

"Easy," the medic repeated gently, trying to sound as placating as possible, but his tone had tensed. His other arm groped for something I couldn't make out behind his back.

I shot upright, my servo clasping his arm with wide optics. I was quaking badly now. "We can't stay here! We have to leave! Do you hear me?!" something suddenly snapped, "WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE! WE CAN'T STAY!" I shrieked hysterically. "WE HAVE TO LEAVE! PLEASE, WE HAVE TO! WE CAN'T STAY HERE! MEGATRON, HE'S–"

Something sharp stabbed into my arm and I relaxed almost immediately. The world acquired a slight haze to it.

"If you keep screaming like that, Megatron will be sure to come down and investigate," he reasoned matter-of-factly with a scowl, discarding a syringe.

I took a shuddering intake and attempted to steel my frayed nerves, shuttering my optics. "You're right, you know. But why are we—how did we end up here?"

"The Big 'M' snatched you up right after Prime had cleaved the mountain in two. I still don't believe it–"

"Same here." My optics opened again. I despised the images that popped up behind my optics when they were closed, scenes from battles new and old, things I didn't want on my conscience.

"Point is," he said, crossing his arms in annoyance while giving me a sharp rap back into reality, "we're now Megatron's hostages." I tried to get to my pedes but the doctor pushed me back down, "Ah, ah, you can go stomp around when I say you can. That sedative will be out of your system in a minute or so."

I huffed, frowning at him. "Fine… if we are Megatron's hostages, what's the ransom?"

Our conversation died at the sound of light pedfalls outside the med bay's doors. "Quick!" Knock Out hissed, "Pretend you're still down!"

I complied silently, save for an irritated and nervous whimper. Allowing my intakes to even, I shuttered my optics once again, trying to relax. My tense chassis insisted otherwise and the doors opened.

* * *

Sporadic trembles still ran down the Seeker's lithe frame, looking more like he was having a nightmare than anything else. The sedative had worn off. Knock Out stared down at the clone with pity, then anger at the mech that had done this to him. The mech that had traumatized Starscream, and in turn, Seven, well past hysteria and even to the brink of insanity at times. To the point that the medic had slipped into a habit of readying sedatives after every round of Megatron's "discipline" in case the poor bot had a fit, like the one he just used. He shook his helm, spitting a few obscenities at the warlord beneath his vocalizer as Soundwave walked in, no doubt hearing some of the rainbow flowing from the medic's mouth.

Knock Out looked up. "Oh, Soundwave, it's you. What do you need, or does Lord Megatron require something?"

The blue mech walked deeper into the room, silent as always, looking to Seven. A violet question mark popped up on his visor.

"You heard the commotion?" The medic sighed again, suddenly looking uncharacteristically weary. "He woke up and freaked. I had to, ah…" the question mark vanished. "What do you require?" The medic repeated.

Soundwave slowly raised an arm and pointed with a long, slender finger to the screens next to the berth Seven laid on, the clone still feigning the appearance of catatonia.

"Oh, those? They aren't monitoring his vitals, as he's only suffering from various stress reactions…" the medic trailed off. Seven's chassis stiffened. The silent mech then nodded and backed out of the room, having to attend to other duties. But it was no accident that he locked the doors from the outside behind him.

Knock Out let out a sigh of relief, muttering to himself in a disquieted manner, "It's bots like _him_ that you need to look out for…"

* * *

I opened my optics and slid off the med berth, testing my weight on my slender legs. They held. "With any luck, Soundwave has other duties to attend to… but never mind that, how will we get off this accursed ship without being discovered?"

The red mech turned away and began to sift through a shelf for something, "Maybe a juicy, daring plan with stealth on the side and a dash of luck could do."

I frowned at him, "Is this a cooking show?"

I got the sense that the medic was smirking slightly even though I couldn't see it, "Not that I'm aware of." I huffed wryly, unamused, and went over to have a go the door.

"Open!" I barked. It remained firmly closed.

"Try adding the word 'sesame,'" suggested the medic.

"Again, this isn't a cooking show!" I repeated. Knock Out shrugged in the corner of my vision and I leaned over the door, inspecting it. "It's locked!" I exclaimed in indignation.

"Gee, I wonder how _that_ could have happened." The medic drawled, extracting something from the shelf that he was straining to reach. "Aha!" He exclaimed when he had a hold of it.

"Stop fiddling around with whatever-that-is and get over here and help me!" I snapped.

"See for yourself," came his reply. I spun around, just in time to reflexively catch an object hurtling at my helm. "The ground bridge remote?" I exclaimed in surprise, turning it over in my servos.

"The one and only," he answered, "you still had it on you for Primus knows how long."

"You said I was only out for a _short while_!" I growled.

He initially looked sheepish, which was very strange to witness but then covered it with false smugness, "We aren't–or at least weren't called Decepticons without reason."

I looked at him, deadly serious. "How. Long?"

He looked away, "Fine. But I wasn't really–"

"Stalling isn't an answer." I hissed.

"Two and a half days."

My legs suddenly felt rubbery. "Two days…" I breathed, trembling slightly.

"And a half."

"My audials are functional!" My voice was shrill.

"Yep, that's your story, and you'll stick to it." He crossed his arms, the smug look back on his faceplates.

Now I was confused. "What? You just said–"

"Decepticons, remember?"

I glowered at him and stalked over. "Stop fragging around! How long was I really out, and what in the Allspark do you mean?! I'm not a mind reader!"

"Clearly," he replied dryly, then added, "a few minutes, tops. But if we're going to strut around and act like true 'Cons again," I huffed at that, "you'll have to pretend to have deluded yourself quite a bit."

"Fun." I replied in an equally dry tone.

He snorted, "Hardly."

Changing the subject, "Have you been able to contact the other Autobots?"

Knock Out shook his helm, "The comm signal's jammed, an extra precaution I'm sure Megatron took.

"I'm not known for my loyalty," I admitted. "At least, Starscream wasn't." The mood in the room darkened considerably.

He steered the conversation away from potential pitfalls, tapping the ground bridge remote against his thigh plating. "I haven't actually been able to use this yet," he confessed, "but it appears to still be operational, even with the dents in the sides."

I winced slightly, the memory resurfacing. But I waved his comment aside, "I know, set coordinates to the flight deck. We need to get away from here as soon as possible."

"You didn't say the magic word."

I snatched it out of his servos, "Tough slag. Shall we?" I opened a portal.

He squared his shoulders, confidence faltering. "We shall."

The pair of us warily walked through the portal, me trailing behind him and I closed the bridge behind our heels. I looked up and everything was black, save for a massive smear of stars across the night sky. I tried to say something to the medic beside me, but my voice didn't seem to work. My processor couldn't, well, process what exactly was happening. I looked down to the remote, making sure I had gotten the right coordinates. Then, seeing the pockmarked surface of the planet's moon beneath us, and the _Nemesis_ gliding slowly by above, I realized why. A space bridge eerily peeked out on the horizon of the moon.

Knock Out beat me to it, opening a comm link between us as his optics widened. "Houston, we have a problem."


	22. 22 - Alpha, Omega II

XXII - Alpha, Omega II

I swore beneath my vocalizer and stamped a pede on the greyish, powdery surface of the moon. "A rock orbiting a larger rock?!"

Knock Out glanced at me, "You're the one with the controller. And for the record, it's called _gravity_." His tone dripped with sarcasm.

I mentally chastised myself. "I know that! I was referring to the fact that once the _Nemesis_ is out of the remote's range," my grip on it tightened as he tried to pry it from my grasp, "we will be stranded here."

" _I_ would be, but you… you can fly, or did you forget?" He gave up on his attempt to tried to wipe moon dust off his pedes and legs to no avail, squealing. "Ugh, this stuff's everywhere! It's times like this when I need Breakdown back. He was quite the maestro behind a rotary buffer!"

My optics narrowed, annoyed at the medic's audacious display of vanity at a time like this. "Yes, I could, and become a flaming meteor!" I snapped. His faceplates were dubious. "It's called _atmosphere_ , doctor." I sneered. But he was right to some degree: I had a much better chance at surviving than he did if Megatron's warship drifted out of reach.

The red mech stood upright again, reluctantly abandoning the futile effort to scrape the accumulating dust off his shins. I glanced down at my own and saw with a small surge of satisfaction that they looked as clean as ever, if not very shiny. _The benefits of having a silver paint job while surrounded by grey dust_ , I thought smugly.

Knock Out noticed this as well with a quiet snarl over the comm link, "Stop dawdling, we need to get back aboard the warship."

My voice was an octave higher than it had been before, "Why?"

He looked at me like I had lost it. "Apologies, _commander_ , I didn't realize that you wanted to remain here and rust." I rolled my optics, knowing the latter wasn't possible up here.

"I'd rather take my chances flying back to Earth than aboard that slagging ship again…" I muttered, shaking my helm and absently kicked a small moon rock. It went flying up in a large, slow parabola then sank down back to the moon's surface as if underwater, landing in a slow motion puff of grey dust. _The low gravity_ , I realized, feeling stupid.

"Your performance earlier had Megatron fooled." He crossed his arms.

My tone grew icy, "But we can't just cavort around up there and expect everything to go right!"

"It's not like we have much of a choice!" The medic shot back.

I hurled the ground bridge remote at him, "Then go without me!"

He caught it, staring at me in shock, and opened a bridge. After a final backward glance, he ran through it as I panted heavily, not having moved an inch but my emotions roiling in my tank. I glared at the bridge as it closed.

* * *

The Autobots stood around in their base, grinning like fools at each other after relaying the news to Ratchet, who hadn't been there to witness Optimus receive the message from Alpha Trion. Bulkhead stomped a pede on the floor of the Autobot base, "Pack your gear! We're going back to Cybertron!"

[I can't believe it!] Bumblebee exclaimed, bubbling with energy.

Ratchet laughed, "Well believe it now, Bumblebee! Civilization at last…"

Smokescreen was the least enthusiastic of the group, "But I just got here, and Earth's pretty cool so far."

The green mech couldn't hold himself still, "I can't wait to tell Miko!"

Arcee's smile slowly fell, shadows deepening on her faceplates. "And… Jack," she added slowly.

Bumblebee whirled sadly, [And Raf.]

Smokescreen ignored them and strode over to the Prime, looking skeptical. "Optimus, keys open doors. Can they really revive an entire planet?"

Optimus seemed hopeful, "While I am unfamiliar with the lore of the Omega Keys, my former mentor knew many secrets. Time shall tell."

"I wish Cliff were here to see this. We've come so far." Arcee said softly in a wistful tone, staring up at one of the lights overhead with a bittersweet look in her optics.

"And Scream," Bulkhead added somberly.

[Don't forget Seven and Knock Out.] Bumblebee added hopefully.

Ratchet tried to smile at them but it faltered, "They at least have a chance of coming back…"

Smokescreen snorted, "Sev looked like he'd blown a gasket to me."

Optimus steered the conversation back on course, "Whatever the Keys' function, this much is certain: we cannot restore Cybertron without all four Omega Keys in our possession."

"Which means we can't afford to lose a single one to Megatron," Arcee reasoned, taking a light sip from an energon cube.

"But we are at a grave disadvantage, not having the coordinates to their precise locations at our disposal." The Prime frowned. "Rather, they lie in the servos of our enemies."

"But we know who has direct access to their coordinates." Ratchet said vaguely, hope dawning on his features.

"Who?" Everyone else asked in unison.

"Seven."

* * *

An audial-splitting screech rent the formerly silent air, save for the quiet intakes of the two large mechs standing alone in the darkness. A single, unwavering beam of light from a flashlight held by Dreadwing was their only guide. The door before them boomed as it shuddered open, a millennia worth of rust caking its mechanisms. Megatron and Dreadwing stepped inside, the flashlight beam falling on a large, intricately carved stone casket.

"A tomb?" The blue Seeker swung the flashlight around the dark, musty room in mild surprise.

"One known to hold the remains of Primes," Megatron smirked. "Please tell me you are not adverse to desecration."

The blue Seeker took a moment to respond, "It is just that being in such a place evokes powerful emotions, considering the fate of my twin."

"Then you should delight in our purpose here," Megatron fixed his gaze back upon the casket, "to exact our revenge of Skyquake, and of all our fallen brethren." With a roar, Dreadwing dragged the heavy lid off, and Megatron's sword slid out of its place on his arm.

* * *

I didn't know how long I had remained on the moon's surface, wandering aimlessly around its smaller craters. But Primus, it was hot. I'd switched on all my fans to help combat the heat, but still was panting. The _Nemesis_ still drifted lazily overhead, but I didn't bother opening my comm, instead, allowed my thoughts to carry me farther than the ship could. I transformed and was forced to focus on controlling my ailerons and thruster more than anything else, given the unfamiliar sensation of not having cool air whipping past my wings and the lessened tug of the moon's gravity. I ended up overestimating my speed and shot past the _Nemesis_. I suddenly was met with the massive space bridge floating right in front of me, but this time it was active. The swirling green portal seemed to draw me right into its depths.

Then none other than Megatron and his present first lieutenant, Dreadwing, flew out of the swirling portal in their alt modes, mere specks of black against the vast whirlpool of swirling green and white energy tinged with violet hues. They both must have seen me, as they began to accelerate.

I whirled back around and blasted my thruster until I crashed headlong into the warship's flight deck. I grit my denta as the bottom of my fuselage acquired numerous scrapes from the rough collision, but made no move to slow my skid. I didn't want to hurt myself by transforming. I wanted to look like scrap, not actually _become_ it. I needed a ticket to the med bay, to talk to Knock Out.

The pair transformed and landed in front of me. I made a big show of being in pain, groaning and lying still, my chassis and wings rigid. Megatron held a large burgundy arm in his grip, it almost resembled Optimus'. But it had more beveled edges and instead of blue being its secondary color, gold was, however, was just as large as the Prime's.

"Dreadwing, go monitor Soundwave's progress on Project: Iacon." The silver mech ordered. I saw a flicker of movement in my peripherals as the blue Seeker marched off purposefully in the direction of the bridge. "Starscream," he began, turning his attention to me. "You have an uncanny knack for injuring yourself. How might this have happened?"

"One of my many talents," I muttered, getting to my pedes and pretending to wince. "I, ah, was hit by a small asteroid." I offered with a nervous smile, trying to make it sound plausible.

His mouth plates twitched. There was no way he believed me. "I would not be taking you to dear Knock Out if it were not paramount for me as well, am I clear?"

"Crystal, my liege." I snarled between gritted denta. "Does it have anything to do with _that_?" I jerked my helm at the arm in his grasp.

He glanced down at it, "Your observational skills have perhaps shown some improvement."

It was my turn to smile.

A minute or so later, we made it to the med bay. I staggered away from Megatron and leaned against the wall, watching as he opened the door with a five-digit passcode on a keypad. I was still wary, knowing anything about the warlord, he would have something sinister up his sleeve.

Knock Out did a double take when we entered. "My liege," he nodded at the warlord, "Se–" he caught himself, "Starscream, you just love being spoiled, don't you?"

"No more than you adore slaving over your paint," I jibed.

"You know where your spot is. It's always reserved for you, you know." The red medic shot back with a roll of his optics. I collapsed gratefully onto the all-too-familiar surface of "my" med berth. Not looking at me, the warlord reclined on the other berth. I squirmed nervously.

"Knock Out, if you would ever so kindly replace my right arm with this?" The large silver mech commanded, and held up the arm still clutched in his servo. My optics widened and I snapped upright, forgetting about my "injuries" for a moment.

The medic swallowed, "Yes, I can do it, Lord Megatron. If you're certain that's what you really want. I shall induce stasis–"

"No! I wish to bear witness when you attach my new appendage," he rumbled.

Knock Out reluctantly conceded to him, frowning. He offered me an apologetic look and transformed out a circular saw. It began to whine shrilly as its serrated edge quickly became a blur. He brought it down onto Megatron's elbow and it screeched ever louder, its teeth biting into the metal. The warlord squeezed his optics shut and clenched his denta, entire chassis rigid until the blade cut all the way through.

* * *

I stretched my legs and arm, glad to no longer have a reason to keep acting, but was as stiff as the berth I had laid on. I rolled my shoulders and my cocked helm from side to side, flapping my large wings and buffeted Knock Out, who stood behind me.

"Do you mind?!" He snapped.

I shook myself, "And this is why you do not have wings."

"I like the way I look in steel-belted radials," he smirked.

I rolled my optics, "Oh, like we haven't heard _that_ one before."

He abruptly changed the subject, a new gleam in his optics. "Did you see what I did to Megatron?"

"Yes…?"

The medic smirked devilishly, "Oh, it's nothing complex. That arm is ancient, you know, and I think I forgot to oil some of the joints."

I smirked along with him, "He'll never be able to keep up with Optimus in battle, now will he?"

"Not since I've had a say in things."

* * *

A loud clang rang out as Megatron brought the Forge of Solus Prime down onto the purple blade of a massive sword. He dropped the Forge beside him, mostly for effect. "It is done." He picked up the blade in his right servo, the one that he recently had replaced with that of a Prime's. Dreadwing spoke up from behind him, pulling the warlord out of his reverie.

"My Lord, as per your command, I noted Soundwave's progress on Project: Iacon."

"And?" Megatron asked, turning to face his second with the sword still in his servo.

If the blue Seeker was unnerved by the large purple blade, he did not show it. "It appears that the final four relics are more important than the rest, as their coordinates are far more heavily encrypted."

"With my Dark Star Saber," the warlord tilted his massive blade so its keen edge caught the light on its wicked, cruel points along the sides, "we are closer than ever before to retrieving the last of the relics. Tell Soundwave to work swiftly, for our enemies could already be on the move."

With a silent nod, Dreadwing turned and strode purposefully out of the room.

* * *

Cords of rain fell out of the sky, taut with the planet below until they burst into a hundred miniscule droplets impacting the ground. Arcee stood in the midst of it outside of the Autobot base, alone in the downpour with the enriched Tox-En before her pedes. Ratchet had meticulously extracted the cure from it hours earlier, and the innocent-looking glass vial laid next to the poisonous energon on the muddy ground.

The blue femme stared at the solid grey sky, "Cliff, if you're out there, this is for you." And she picked up the cure, weighing it in her fist before hurling it out of sight. "And Scream, you too." She then transformed out her blasters and fired at the enriched Tox-En until it melted into its own little sickly green puddle of slag, seeping into the earth as the unrelenting rain drummed against it.


	23. 23 - Valor

XXIII - Valor

"Gah!" I spat, jumping away from the console's purple screens that glared at me. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Knock Out!"

But it was not the medic that answered, as I had expected. "Starscream. What need have you to document our energon stores? Seeking to take some for yourself, perhaps?"

I whirled around at the sound of Megatron's voice, wings flaring in alarm. "I-ah, my liege. I was, ah, merely logging the locations that have been prone to Autobot attacks." I reached out a long black talon and pointed to four locations where energon mines were situated. "These I have found to be the most vulnerable, I suggest that we place troops at their locations." I lowered my servo tentatively, waiting.

Megatron dismissed my suggestion, "No. Spreading the Decepticon forces thin over this rock of a planet would only weaken us."

"Yes, my Lord." I murmured, my optics drifting over to his red arm.

"Come, Starscream. I have something I wish to show you." He ordered brusquely, and promptly strode off down the corridor without waiting for a reply.

I scampered after him, "What might that be, Lord Megatron?"

"You shall see."

* * *

We turned into a laboratory a minute later, where the first thing I saw was Breakdown's scarred chassis.

I gasped, "But he… he–"

Megatron guessed at what I was trying to say, "Breakdown is no more alive than the dirt that coats this planet. No, this fine specimen, this _abomination_ goes by the name of CYLAS."

"Silas!" I exclaimed.

The blue mech chuckled darkly, making no move to try and free himself from the manacles pinning him to the berth. "Indeed, Starscream. Or is it Seven?" He said knowingly, his voice as slick and disgusting as oil while his optics slid over my banded wings.

"Get. Fragged." I spat through gritted denta. Here, _here_ was the person—no, the _abomination_ responsible for Starscream's death. His _murder_. A red veil seemed to descend upon my vision.

CYLAS only seemed mildly amused in some sick way, like he had just watched someone get hurt and wanted to see it again. "I would imagine that virus has taken its course, Seven, so how is your dear twin holding up? Not too well, I should think."

It took every scrap of willpower I possessed to remain where I stood and not leap onto this blue abomination and gouge his optics from his helm and his spark from its chamber. But I still stood there, trembling with rage as my servos balled into fists, itching to wrap around his throat.

My optics didn't waver from CYLAS' shackled chassis as I spoke, "Lord Megatron, your prisoner has no notion of sanity. Allow me to end his miserable, wretched existence!" I spat, lunging forward. But Megatron grabbed me by my right wing and wrenched my scrabbling talons away from what-used-to-be-Breakdown's mangled frame. I felt joints pop as he spun me around and growled right into my faceplates, "Ignore him," he snarled, "he shall have due punishment at Knock Out's dissection table." The warlord shifted his iron grip to pin my arms to my sides.

I screamed in fury and ground my denta in frustration, struggling fervently against the larger mech's unwavering hold for what felt like hours, until I fell limp in his grasp from exhaustion.

"Control yourself, Starscream." The warlord chastised, releasing me. "Unless, that is, you wish to end up beside CYLAS."

"Yes, Seven. I wouldn't—" CYLAS' mocking jeer was abruptly cut off as Megatron backhanded him across the helm.

"Silence!"

The blue mech scowled, "As you wish."

Satisfied, Megatron hefted a mysterious black container of some sort and brought it over to me, letting it fall to the ground with a heavy thud at our pedes. He pried it open and pulled out a tiny glass vial with a clear liquid inside it.

He swirled it, "Recognize this?"

My jaw dropped and he kicked the container open, displaying rows upon rows of the clear, innocent-looking vials. "The cure." I breathed. He closed the case again but didn't bother to latch it shut and tossed it to me.

I reached too far and lost my balance as it slipped through the tips of my fingers and crashed to the floor, leaking copious amounts of a clear fluid from a crack in its plastic side. Megatron still held the vial tantalizingly just out of my reach. I would've burst into tears but was too stunned to feel much of anything. Every time I thought of my late twin, it was like picking off a scab so it never healed—a human concept, but an applicable one nonetheless.

"Starscream, prove your loyalty to me and I will give you this," he shook it again, "fail to do so, and I shall destroy it, along with the Autobots, and then you." He lifted the case up off me and hurled it away as I sprang to my pedes. "Am I clear?"

"Any more and you would be invisible, Master." I gave him a deep bow and shuddered with self-loathing.

"Now, I presume you are wondering as to why I made the Star Saber's equal?"

"Indeed my liege, but not in that sense."

"Oh?"

"I would like a sword as well." I said hopefully.

Megatron growled, "If you think that I shall forge you such a blade, you are sorely mistaken."

"I disagree," I replied in a placating tone as I raised my servos, "If you grant me a few short minutes, I shall retrieve the raw material of which you shall forge it."

He seemed to mull it over, "And what do you suppose the Decepticons would gain from this?"

"I am merely wishing to the scales into our favor once again, my Lord. You and the Prime are equals in battle, who's to say another set of servos wouldn't offset the balance?" I offered, holding my intakes in anticipation.

"Granted that those servos would not be opposite me, yes." He acknowledged. "I shall give this to you as an opportunity to prove yourself worthy of becoming my second once more, and should you fail–"

"Yes, the smelting pool." I grimaced.

He nodded, smiling darkly. "Now, go fetch said 'raw material' and be outside the bridge within ten minutes. There, Soundwave shall collect you and bring you to me." Knowing I had been dismissed, I gave him a deep bow and once again hated myself for it, then departed the room.

One minute and a trip through a ground bridge later, I stood inside the _Harbinger_. I transformed and shot down its halls, dodging debris from when it crashed thousands of years ago, and entered the lab. Disturbingly, I saw the place on the wall where I and the other, less fortunate clones had hung as protoforms, so the humans said. It probably had been for several millennia before Starscream cloned me. I looked away, trying to fight the surge of memories swelling from this place and turned to what happened to be our last misadventure: the red energon. An extra hunk of it sat next to the processing machine, ready for later use just in case. We hadn't needed it, but I was glad now that we thought we did. I snatched it up and transformed again, making sure it ended up in my cockpit.

* * *

"I admit, Starscream, using red energon… not even I would have thought of something as drastic as this." Megatron congratulated.

"As long as the weapon doesn't explode in my grasp," I added, glowing with pride.

The warlord set it onto the sturdy table where he too had pounded his sword into being, and raised the golden Forge of Solus Prime above his helm. He brought the hammer down with enough force that each strut and joint in my chassis jarred with the impact and a deep _BOOM_ reverberated through the room. But I ignored it and watched as my blade took shape. Once the warlord had thinned it considerably, he began elongating and molding it. I noted that the blade would not reach half as long as Megatron's, but that was fine by me. I didn't have as much reach as the warlord nor was as strong, thus, so far the blade looked more than suited for my lithe frame.

Megatron finished less than an hour later. It seemed to me that every time he swung that hammer, it was equal to ten strikes instead of one. He finally stepped back, allowing me to come forward and slung the golden tool over his spiked shoulder plates.

And come forward I did, remaining silent in awe as I ran the fingers of my right servo over the blade's bloodred surface. I felt Megatron's optics watching my every move and lifted it by its black hilt. The sword felt lighter than air and resembled a falchion as far as its make went, but was double-edged, and its slightly translucent blade curved slightly to a wicked point. The jet-black crossguard jutted out of the hilt down towards the pommel, then angled in towards the blade on both ends, giving it a wicked appearance that I instantly liked. A gem of red energon adorned the center of the pommel, glowing with a faint crimson light. I twirled it in a few circles before lowering the crimson blade. It seemed to hum with an alien energy, not quite like the warlord's blade or the Prime's, something… different. I didn't feel like I could say it was better than the massive pair of swords, but it was indubitably unique.

"Thank you, my liege." I dipped my helm.

"Thank me by extinguishing Autobots with it, Starscream." He replied cooly. "Are you going to name the blade?"

I huffed in surprise at that, "I don't have anything as noble as the 'Star Saber,' but… hm…" I mulled it over for a couple minutes, and Megatron was content to wait patiently as I did so.

"Valor." I finally said.

Megatron chuckled darkly at that, "An apt name for a fine blade such as that. Hopefully it shall grant you some." My wings stood on end and I scowled.

The warlord looked to me and drew the Dark Star Saber off his back so slowly, I almost wanted to screech at him to hurry up. Almost. Instead, I tapped the tip of the crimson blade against the side of my right pede and waited. He lunged slowly, toying with me, and missed. _So this is a test as well_ , I thought, my tank twisting in anger. He tried to strike at me again—a fraction faster this time but still miserably slow—and I parried his thrust and danced around him, giving him a small paint scratch on his new arm. His optics widened and he swung around, making to jump at me. I tried to dodge left but he anticipated it, and with a hard flick of his sword, he tore the scarlet blade from my grasp. I lost my balance and fell to my knees, nearly slicing my leg open on its keen edge. When I looked up, the Dark Star Saber's tip was inches away from my exposed neck cables.

"Did I pass?" I asked in wry amusement, taking solace in the knowledge that he wasn't about to harm me.

He swung the sword up over me and grazed the tip of my helm spike in the process, reattaching it to his back. I grabbed the hilt of Valor and got to my pedes, staring him in the optics. He blinked slowly at me and I frowned. Then I dropped the sword, and the world sped back up again.

"No," I breathed. Megatron seemed to have come to the same conclusion, as he bent down and grasped Valor by its hilt. He swept it in a dearly red arc around me, almost faster than the optic could follow, moving at unnatural speeds. It wasn't half the speed of what Starscream had looked like when he used the red energon, but there was a drastic change nonetheless. I remained stock still, not wishing to be maimed by the blurry red arc swinging around me.

A second later I found the hilt of it back in my servo and the warlord stood opposite me. "That is quite the sword," he remarked, a note of something that almost sounded like admiration in his voice. My chest plate swelled, "treat it well and I would hope to think it shall reward you someday in battle."

"Yes, Master."

"Quit groveling!"

"Yes, Master." I simpered sarcastically.

* * *

 _Two months later…_

With our new swords, I had asked Megatron if we could spar every day to help me gain practice, and he obliged. I hadn't started from nothing, fortunately. As standard protocol insisted, Starscream had received training along with every other recruit at the Cybertron War Academy. And through him, me. Though it had been a long, long time since he had the hilt of any sword in his grasp.

Megatron, on the other hand, was a stellar gladiator back on Cybertron, a legend who later turned to politics before founding the Decepticons. Starscream had been a scientist, and I remembered how much he loved being in the lab. But he later joined the war, his intelligence and cunning allowing him to slide up in the ranks until he took his place as Megatron's second-in-command. The warlord kept his gladiatorial sword, and I had seen him use it countless times in battle. Now, as his right arm was replaced by the maroon one taken from the grave of a Prime, he didn't have his fusion cannon or his built-in sword. A blade that we actually had to hold was new for both of us, so the practice got us accustomed. I had been improving steadily, sometimes using both servos, more often using just my right.

"Shall we begin?" Megatron asked, striding out of the shadows of the store room. He always entered from a different direction to keep me on edge, and keep me from falling into a rhythm, which would lead to complacency. At least, that's what I suspected.

"We shall," I said, drawing my blade. Time skipped and seemed to slow in that familiar fashion it always did when I picked Valor up by its hilt.

I adopted a guarded stance as we began to circle each other, looking for weaknesses, as we always did. It had become something of a ritual. Yesterday, I had suffered a crippling defeat—we didn't try to hurt each other, but then again, neither of us showed much restraint. I was sloppy then, and wanted to best him all the more now because of it. But even though we've been having these sparring sessions for weeks, he had been able to beat me with what could nearly be described as ease. And that was with the speed boost Valor bestowed upon me.

I snarled and lunged at him. He saw this and sidestepped, trying to get under my guard with a twist of the Dark Star Saber. His blade was much longer than mine, however, and it was easy to dodge, looking almost awkward in his servos thanks to my enhanced speed. I spun around behind the warlord and thrust Valor's tip at his unprotected back plating. Sensing this or perhaps hearing the blade whistling through the air, he fell flat against the floor and managed to dodge it by inches. I strode closer, ready to deliver the "final" blow. But he rolled out of my way and sprang to his pedes. _Of course it won't be that easy, idiot_ , I chastised myself.

He swept the Dark Star Saber at me, which was futile, as I stood far out of its range. But the tip of the blade seemed to draw an arc of purple energy in the air in a fraction of a second. It shot towards me and caught my chest plate before I could react, carrying me off my pedes and slammed my chassis against the far wall.

I fell to the floor, momentarily stunned as my systems underwent a partial reboot. Now _that_ hurt. I got to my pedes, seeing Megatron rushing at me, and raised Valor with one servo, barely managing to deflect his blade on the flat of mine. I gripped the hilt with both servos, time skipped and slowed again. He moved through the air slowly, almost as if it were syrup. This time, I was more cautious. He had been able to better me nine times out of ten, and I now realized that it was _my_ fault. I was getting arrogant with the enhanced speed Valor gave me, leaving my guard open. I wasn't going to make the same mistake this time.

I suddenly remembered what Knock Out said about Megatron's burgundy arm. " _That arm is ancient, you know, and I think I forgot to oil some of the joints."_ Now that I thought about it, his "new" arm did seem a bit jerky and slower than his left. I slowly edged around to his right and he brought the Dark Star Saber whistling up to my neck cables. I blocked it on the scarlet edge of Valor, straining to keep the purple blade away from my throat. I had already learned the hard way that he wouldn't show mercy except to the brink of termination. One of the first times we sparred, he opened a deep gash on my back and I almost passed out from energon loss. _I've learned from that experience_ , I thought wryly.

I twisted my sword and our blades unlocked, managing to disengage the warlord. His blade lowered in slow motion as mine pulled away, and I stepped forwards, raising my blade as if I was scared and didn't know what to do. Valor's black crossguard caught the edge if the Dark Star Saber, and I slid my blade forwards down the purple sword's much longer edge until it caught on a spike. Then, I gripped the hilt with my other servo so my sword pointed behind me, and pulled down with all the force I could muster. Megatron's sword slipped out of his servos like it was greased, and an instant later, I had Valor's point at his exposed neck cables, my large wings fanned in triumph.

Dreadwing and Soundwave strode into the room as I lowered my blade and leaned on its crossguard, panting from the exertion. Megatron eyed me with a new sense of caution and retrieved his sword as Dreadwing and Soundwave strode into the room. The blue Seeker awarded me a slow, sarcastic clap, "Well done, Starscream. I imagine our liege will not go easy on you again."

I snarled, and was about to retort but Megatron spoke up first. "Do you have anything to report, or may we continue our practice in peace?" the warlord asked in a soft growl, clasping his servos behind his back. Soundwave stepped forward and promptly displayed a location somewhere in Egypt on his visor, near Cairo by the look of it. "Excellent, Soundwave. Triangulate coordinates and open a ground bridge, we shall depart shortly to collect the relic." The communications officer nodded. Megatron looked to me, "Starscream, are you willing to prove your loyalty?"

I gripped the hilt of Valor more tightly, "Indeed, my liege."

Soundwave opened the ground bridge and I sprinted through it. Perhaps, if luck was on my side, I could retrieve the relic first and there wouldn't be any energon spilled. But then Megatron followed me through and the bridge closed behind us, effectively extinguishing my hope.

The Autobots spilled through another vortex seconds later, led by Optimus. They all transformed, and the only ones missing were Smokescreen and Ratchet. I took a deep intake and readied myself for the performance I had been mentally been planning in whatever meager spare time I had for the duration of my stay aboard the _Nemesis_. Which meant this was the stage.

I gripped the hilt of Valor tightly, ready to put on a memorable show.

* * *

Ratchet pounded a servo against the console in frustration, causing the screens to flicker. "Megatron! Please respond!"

"Why are we still doing this?" Smokescreen asked, crossing his arms behind the white medic. "It's been, like, ten minutes. He's not going to answer."

The medic shushed him, "Hold on… what is this?" Ratchet's tone took on a skeptical edge as something new popped up on the screen.

"What?" Arcee prodded, coming over to better view the screens.

"Another Iacon locator beacon!" Bulkhead exclaimed.

"The first Omega Key." Optimus announced. Turning to his counterparts, "Autobots, we cannot delay. Smokescreen, Ratchet, remain here if the Decepticons manage to locate another."

"Aw c'mon Optimus, I got this!" Smokescreen protested as the red mech plucked the Star Saber off its stand and hooked it onto his back, where Ratchet had installed, as he put, "a more practical means of carrying such a blade."

"Remain here," the Prime repeated.

"Hey, I hate to interrupt," Arcee said, "but what does it matter if the 'Cons get the Keys?"

Ratchet faced her, "If they do, they will no doubt label themselves as the saviors of our race, at the dawn of a new age for Cybertron. Megatron's twisted, tyrannical ways will poison the sparks and processors of future generations for eons to come!"

Optimus looked at the medic, "I could not have put it better, old friend." With that said, he, Bulkhead, Arcee, and Bumblebee transformed and drove through the ground bridge portal.

The four Autobots shot out of it and onto a sand dune. The three pyramids of Giza pointed to the stars in the night sky and the moon's white eye glared down, bleaching the landscape and giving everything a silvery sheen. What they saw on the crest of the dune opposite them was disturbing. Seven stood next to Megatron, a silent snarl etched into his faceplates. Where Megatron's silver right arm should have been was one that was burgundy in color, with bits of gold-painted plating studding the outside of it. Judging by its proportions, the arm had clearly belonged to a less fortunate mech of similar stature to Megatron.

Optimus transformed and the others followed suit behind him. "By the Allspark Megatron, what have you done?!" His blue optics widened in horror.

The large silver mech held out his new arm in mock surprise, "This? I find it affords me certain advantages, such as the use of the Forge of Solus Prime." He sneered at the Prime's glare, and his gaze slid to the Star Saber on the red mech's back, "Ah, merely what is necessary, Optimus." He reached up behind him and drew a long, purple sword out of its partial scabbard mounted on his back, not unlike Optimus'. The warlord drank in the blade's violet glow, "My first creation, fashioned from the very blood of Unicron the Destroyer: the Dark Star Saber!"

The Prime's optics narrowed at that, and then they fell on the Seeker standing slightly behind the warlord as if trying to sneak away. Optimus wouldn't put it past him. "Seven, abandon Megatron and whatever his twisted plans may be and join us once again to end this war!"

The Seeker said nothing, optics burning with rage. "One does not so easily change their stripes," The warlord's lip curled into a snarl and Seven's banded wings flicked for emphasis. "Dear Starscream has allowed his colors to show once more, and is proving himself worthy of our cause. So I extend an invitation, give him the opportunity to prove himself further." The sneer deepened into his faceplates.

And then the Seeker too drew his own sword, to their disbelief. The blade was smooth and keen, and a crimson that matched the color of his optics down to their very cores. Not to mention the stripes on the ends of his wings. The hilt in the silver mech's grasp was painted a pure inky black, and the sword itself seemed to hum with energy. It most closely resembled a falchion, but also a spatha, a short, double-edged blade whose tip widened to over twice its width at the hilt then tapered in a cruel arc. Seven cackled, a new touch of insanity coloring his high voice that chilled the Autobots to their cores.

* * *

 **A/N: Call me crazy, but I built what I think Valor would look like in real life, unfortunately, there isn't a good way to post pictures to this site. And yes, it hurts to be hit with, and doesn't make me run faster. I wish.**


	24. 24 - Valor II

XXIV - Valor II

On the crest of a sand dune opposite me, the Autobots' optics widened after I had loosed that mad laugh. I'd even unnerved myself, it had come so easily, felt too real.

They all assumed defensive stances and Optimus readied the Star Saber. Arcee sank into a half-crouch, the blade on her left arm slid out and a blaster for her right. Next to her, Bumblebee had a single blaster out but it was already raised, but pointing at Megatron next to me. However, his blue optics were locked onto my crimson ones that matched the color of Valor down to their cores. Opposite the Prime, Bulkhead was on the tips of his pedes, glowering at me and Megatron alternately with both of his wrecking balls out and at the ready.

The warlord beside me said nothing, allowing his large, glowing purple sword to do the talking. But I wasn't about to be outshone by it. I stepped forward, flaring my wings up to appear larger than I actually was. My stiletto pedes certainly helped.

"Shall we dance?" I said tauntingly, twirling my sword. The length of its scarlet blade flashed gruesomely in the light.

Arcee hissed, "Sorry, but Cliff was my partner."

My optics widened slightly and then my mouth plates curled down into a snarl, "Oh, I wouldn't know."

"After so-and-so took a dive?" Bulkhead butted in.

My helm snapped over to him and I stabbed the point of Valor into the sand beside my right pede, but still felt like I was the one who'd been impaled. "Pardon me, but did I ask you?"

He snorted, "Like you needed to."

Optimus took the reins from there, clearly not liking where the conversation was going. "Megatron, Seven, we outnumber you two to one. Please, end this cycle, for the good of Cybertron and Earth and its inhabitants." His tone became firm enough for me to hesitate, thinking about Oliver and Will. If Megatron shared any similar feelings, he didn't show them.

Instead, the warlord put on an apologetic smile, "Ah, pretty words shall be met with pretty blades, Optimus. Are you not familiar with the nature of our battles?"

The Prime's confidence didn't waver in the slightest, "That I am, Megatron. But what hope have we for restoring Cybertron when you refuse to mend our broken race?" He planted his sword into the sand and rested his left servo on it, gesturing with his right as he spoke, optics glowing. "So many lives have been lost in this war―this needless fighting which I cannot condone―and that is why I oppose you and your treachery, Megatron." His optics fell onto me, locking my joints and boring right into my spark. I felt pinned beneath their azure glow, and my grip loosened on Valor. The others noticed this and stood up a bit straighter as if hoping for something. Prime continued, "And I must believe that everyone, no matter what side they are aligned with, is capable of change." His gaze turned to the warlord beside me once again, lifting his chin ever so slightly and his battle mask was still not out. "And I refuse to take part in the extermination of our race just to further your own twisted delusions of conquest, so I shall say this once: stand down."

Megatron grinned and I thought he would have awarded the red mech a slow clap had he not been holding the Dark Star Saber. "Bravo, Optimus, most eloquent. But we both know that I take orders from none," he pointed his jagged blade at the Prime, "least of all, you."

"Enough prattle!" I snapped, annoyed, and sprang at Arcee.

The others just watched, startled that _I_ , for once had been the first to initiate a battle, and then they too joined. My field of vision narrowed as I focused on executing each clean, sweep of Valor. I, or Starscream, had never been a mech that was infatuated with swords, elegant as they may be.

The line became blurrier the harder I looked at it.

I relished the feel of speed as the blue femme feinted left, trying to get under my guard. I saw it coming a mile away and sidestepped, swinging my sword down towards her unprotected back. She was completely at my mercy and I could have severed her spinal struts, effectively paralyzing her. But I refrained and instead twisted my sword away, grabbing her arm that was a blaster—keeping my servo well away from its muzzle after making sure no one was looking.

"Follow me!" I hissed.

Her optics widened in slow motion. "What?!"

"Trust me!" I snapped back, jerking her arm so her faceplates came closer to mine. Her optics were narrowed but I could see that she was warring over who to trust: me, or her instincts.

She tore her arm out of my grip and indicated another dune with a thrust of her helm, "Over there."

I kept Valor's blade well away from my legs as we hurried over to the dune and fell flat behind it, watching the fray side by side though wide optics and quick pants. Then she looked at me with a glare so full of malice my grip tightened on Valor to prevent her from grabbing it and stabbing me with my own sword.

"You never struck me as the type," she nodded at its red blade.

I laughed, the question felt that absurd. "Nor did I."

And not a second later I found myself pinned against the dune with one of her blades at my neck cables. "You're too easily distracted, Seven." The femme remarked.

* * *

All of Megatron's swings were delayed just enough to throw off the precise timing that was always paramount in battle. Enough for Optimus to gain the upper hand. But why? His "new" arm was slow to respond and moved in an unpredictable, jerky way. The silver mech scowled.

The Autobots opposite the warlord did little more than watch, their chassis rigid with anticipation and fear of the outcome. Megatron swung the Dark Star Saber with the ferocity of a rabid wolf, but Optimus hooked one of the purple sword's spikes on the inside hole of the Star Saber's blade and pulled for all he was worth.

Megatron found himself kneeling before the Prime a second later, the Dark Star Saber a foot out of his reach. Arcee stood next to Optimus, whispering something the warlord couldn't quite hear before stepping back. The Prime nodded grimly in understanding and turned his attention back to the silver mech at his pedes.

The leader of the Decepticons wasn't stupid. He recognized when he had lost, unfortunate as that may be. So he took an intake and smirked knowingly, making no move to rise. "It seems I am unarmed and at your mercy."

Optimus didn't hesitate, the tip of the Star Saber trembling in a way that was barely perceptible due to his tense form. But he frowned at the warlord, "So be it, Megatron." The warlord bowed his helm, waiting.

But then it froze and Optimus' arm fell to his side, a small gasp escaping his mouth. Annoyed, Megatron knew he should have been dead. He looked up, and with shock saw the front half of an unmistakable, scarlet blade tinged with the bright blue of energon on its left edge having sprouted from the Prime's right side.

Bulkhead and Bumblebee were absent, but Arcee stood in their place several paces away, her mouth agape as Seven triumphantly unsheathed Valor from the red mech's side. Optimus fell to his knees, this time in front of Megatron who now stood above him, a grin on his faceplates. The Star Saber slipped out of his grasp and landed with a silent poof of dust on the sand, its blue glow dimming to nothing.

"Ah, how quickly the tables turn!" The large silver mech exclaimed as Seven tried to wipe the energon off his sword's edge in vain. Optimus shakily glared up at the warlord, clutching his side and shooting him daggers of hatred with his optics. Megatron slowly stooped over, as if calculating the best way to retrieve his sword, and straightened again, keeping vigil over the Prime all the while. On the other hand, the Seeker said nothing, watching the exchange with a bemused air about him.

By then, Arcee had both her blasters out and trained on the warlord. "One more word…"

Megatron pointed the Dark Star Saber's tip at Optimus' helm, "I wouldn't." A sneer split his faceplates.

But then, fast as lightning, the tip of Valor was at Megatron's exposed throat and Optimus was on his pedes, the Star Saber clutched in his grasp.

"Indeed, they do, Megatron." The Prime growled, his wound forgotten.

Seven smirked, "You taught me well, Master." The warlord's crimson optics widened and his mouth opened slightly, but he regained his composure almost instantly, his mouth falling into a snarl.

"Ah, Starscream, mark my words, there always is room for improvement." Then Megatron's new, burgundy arm seemed to twist and transformed into a blaster which loosely resembled Optimus', but was blockier and more rough-around-the-edges. But the key difference was that inside the muzzle had an amber glow, rather than the classic blue or red.

It crackled with energy and they all remained motionless for a moment before it flashed brightly in Seven's optics and the Seeker staggered. Valor fell out of his grasp and its curved tip scratched a bit of paint off of his right shin. Bumblebee stood at the Wrecker's left, holding something in his right servo, but it was shrouded in shadows and none of them could see what it was. The green brute had both his blasters out and began firing at Megatron, and Optimus and Arcee soon joined in, adding their blue blaster fire to the mix. Seven, having more-or-less recovered from the shot, leapt back into battle once again.

* * *

 _Minutes ago…_

"Wait! I can explain!" I gasped, struggling backward into the dune in a futile attempt to distance myself from the femme's sharp blade.

"Talk, but know that these could be your last words, traitor!" She growled, pressing it against my neck cables. I felt a couple beads of energon spring up.

"All right, all right!" I conceded. "But get that away from me!"

"No."

I reluctantly threw Valor aside, and only then did she transform her arm's blade away and let up on me. I reflexively curled up, trying to get air to flow into my intakes once again and rubbed my throat, all the while glaring at Arcee.

"Talk," she repeated, folding her arms across her chest plate.

I pushed myself into a crouch, and only turned to her after making sure we hadn't been spotted by the others. Especially Megatron. I shuddered at the thought and furtively watched for a moment as Bumblebee and Bulkhead broke off from the fight and transformed, leaving Optimus and Megatron to their own devices as they drove off towards the closest of the three pyramids. They cast dark, angular shadows by the light of the full moon, despite that it was night.

"A-hem," The femme frowned at me.

I started. "Ah, yes. I have been trying in vain to contact you Autobots, and haven't received a single word in reply! Why have you all abandoned Knock Out and I?!" I snapped.

"You made it plenty clear which side you're really on," the femme spat back.

"Have I?" I answered cooly. "You're the one who shot me… twice, even!"

Arcee hesitated. "If we have any chance of saving our planet, we need everyone on board with this. Get it? This isn't about you or your self preservation," she jabbed a finger at my chest plate at that and was about to continue but I cut her off.

My optics narrowed skeptically, "Ha! Cybertron is dead, there's nothing left to save!"

She glared at me, "If you tell Megatron or _anyone_ this, I swear by the Allspark that I will hunt you down and terminate you in the slowest way possible."

I gulped, knowing she would remain good on her word. "So be it."

Arcee began to explain in a hurried manner, as if afraid of being interrupted. She talked about the last four Iacon relics: the Omega Keys and their function. By the time the femme had finished, my mouth hung open from the shock of it.

"B-but it's just too good to be true," I reasoned, my voice shakier than I would've liked, "Cybertron is little more than a graveyard now. Can four relics really revive an entire p-planet?"

She offered a wry smile, "That's what we've been trying to find out."

Silence settled over us like a shroud again, but this time I wasn't afraid of it. I finally found my voice again after watching Optimus and Megatron exchanging words and deft blows with their massive swords. And then an idea hit me.

"I can get you the coordinates." I offered spontaneously. "The three others are still encrypted, but I can get them." I breathed.

Her optics widened a little, "Are you certain?"

I grimaced, "It will cost me, but yes, I am."

The femme's expression became thoughtful, "Then we need to make sure he takes you back aboard his warship."

"So if I pretend to attack Optimus…"

"And then turn on Megatron," she added, "he would perceive you as more formidable–"

I huffed, "Or a true threat."

"Or that," she conceded, giving me a slight roll of her optics.

"And take me back to the _Nemesis_." I finished, retrieving Valor from where it laid.

We then watched and waited for a lull in the battle in silence, searching for the perfect moment to strike. Then Arcee noticed one and vaulted over the lip of the dune hiding us, rushing towards Optimus, ready to tell him of our plan. While she did that, I pricked the tip of my thumb on the curved point of Valor. A small bead of bright, azure energon sprang up and I gingerly ran it down the one of the edges of my sword's crimson blade, tinging it blue. The last thing I wanted to do was slice my finger off on accident.

"This is a terrible plan," I spat at Valor. It only glinted innocently in the grim light of the planet's moon as if teasing me.

I shook my helm at my sword and stuck my thumb in my mouth, sucking the energon off it before letting my arm fall back. And then I stood and went to join Arcee. Valor seemed to hum in my grasp and the world's speed hitched and then slowed, a sensation I had grown to love.

* * *

 _The present…_

Megatron had shot me in the faceplates. And that was no normal blaster he had either. By the state of that arm, I was mildly surprised that it was even capable of transformation. A streak of bright red suddenly appeared next to me, cutting into Megatron's side. A rope of blue energon spilled down in slow motion and I scurried out of its way, not wanting to get splashed. I watched as Megatron immediately unsheathed the Dark Star Saber from its place on his back and swung it at Optimus. The Prime held the Star Saber, in all its glory. Megatron's movements were halting and lopsided, and he had noticed this too judging by the silent snarl sinking deeper and deeper into his expression. But on the other hand, Optimus was busy using it to his advantage. _Thank you, Knock Out._ I thought.

The Prime unlocked their blades for a moment and tried to undercut the tyrant, but Megatron had anticipated it and was already bringing his sword down as if to slice open Optimus' right shoulder plate. I saw that the silver mech was favoring his left side and his hip was streaked with the unmistakable blue of energon, which I could make out even in the dim lighting of the moon. The red mech saw the warlord's move at the last second and blocked it on the flat of his blade but was driven to his knees by the force of the impact.

With a roar, Megatron raised the Dark Star Saber above his helm to strike and I lunged forward just as his blade came down. I caught one of the spikes of his sword on the scarlet edge of Valor and it was wrenched from my grasp with a painful tug. But the warlord was off-balance and—without thinking first—I grabbed the purple blade with both servos. The sword cut into them and energon began to ooze out onto my wrists, but I ignored it, straining to stop the blade's descent with gritted denta. And stop it I did, just above the Prime's neck cables, arms quaking from the strain.

"Move!" I screeched. He didn't need to be told twice. Optimus sprang out of the way and sliced the Star Saber at the warlord, it shot a wave of blue energy at him but he cleaved it in two with a single strike. Megatron pulled his sword away and I held the palms of my servos up, dumbly watching energon seep out of deep incisions in the centers of them. But I darted over and grabbed Valor, nowhere near finished yet.

In my peripherals, I saw a ground bridge appear. Bumblebee rushed into it with that mysterious object still in his servo, Bulkhead at his pedes. "Optimus!" Arcee shouted, waving him over. The Prime saw this and glanced at me, looking torn.

"Get on with it." I said to him.

"Are you certain—"

"Yes! GO!" I snapped back, my wings flaring up in frustration.

Optimus didn't argue further and loped off to join the femme, casting a backward look at me before vanishing through the bridge, Star Saber and all. I now was alone with Megatron in a semi-remote area of the globe. And what I meant by "semi" was that the pyramids of Giza were only a short flight away, a massive tourist trap. I almost stood in the shadow of the closest one, a behemoth of a structure cutting into the sky.

I turned my attention to Megatron as he lifted the Dark Star Saber. "So tell me, Starscream, why side with the Autobots?"

I played dumb. "I did no such thing, my Lord."

His façade of pleasantry evaporated like mist on a hot day. "Are you, or are you not familiar with the punishment for treason?"

I swallowed, "I-I am."

He raised his purple sword, "Then take pride in the fact that I'm giving you a fighting chance."

I felt my optics widen; that was the thing I least expected. I stepped back, raising Valor above my helm and fell into a half-crouch, pretending as though I was going to be on the defensive. He took my bait and I clutched the hilt of my blade for dear life. This was no practice round now. Megatron swung forward with what would have been a crippling blow, but I rolled beneath his guard and stabbed at his chest plate. He elbowed me in the faceplates with his silver arm and I fell back, dazed. I got to my pedes a second later, scrutinizing his chassis. _There's no way I can win other than outsmarting him_ , I realized.

I managed to come up with three weaknesses of his as we circled each other, blades at the ready. It felt like hours thanks to my sword, time seemed to move like syrup. The first, his left hip where Optimus cut him. I couldn't see well from my vantage point, but it didn't look deep, albeit clearly was paining him. Hence, he favored his left side, which would make his attacks lopsided. Optimus had already worn him down somewhat with their battle not even mere minutes before. Exhaustion claimed more lives than the bite of steel or burst of plasma in battle, as I had noticed over the years. And lastly, "his" burgundy arm, which would be slower than his left. Megatron appeared to be examining me likewise, from what felt like a dent in my helm I couldn't remember getting to the deep cuts in my servos and a few scrapes I had picked up in the fight. I felt my wings twitch with impatience and Megatron lunged forward as if looking for a signal.

I immediately dropped back out of instinct, but then remembered that wouldn't help me here. It was just the two of us, and fleeing was not an option. So I tried to flank him on his left side, the one with his weak leg, but he knew what I was trying to do and cut me off. I was on the defensive now, trying to parry his furious strikes.

The warlord slipped under my guard and almost twisted my blade out of my grasp, but I tightened my grip and the tip of his blade made a shallow rent in my chest plate. I sprang backwards and brought Valor whistling down towards his silver arm. He sidestepped and my blade lodged in the sand. I tugged on it and it slipped out, but then I twisted to the side and rolled as the Dark Star Saber nearly cleaved one of my wings off at its base, hearing it whistling through the air. I ran in towards Valor, slightly disoriented by how everything was sped up again, and managed to snatch it up, earning what felt like a deep gash on my left leg from his sword. I stood a short distance away, and the warlord and I charged at each other.

Our blades clashed near the hilts, faceplates inches away from each other and snarls plastered to both, of that I was certain. But then Valor slipped up slightly and time seemed to hiccup again, but the world didn't speed back up as I thought it might. Instead, there was a searing heat and a blinding flash of red light.


	25. 25 - Dire Straits

XXV - Dire Straits

There was sand in my mouth. That was the first thing I noticed. Then something jabbed me hard in the side. "Wake up!" A voice snapped angrily. I groaned quietly in protest as the world slowly began to come into focus. Well, there wasn't much to it. A dark hallway of the _Nemesis_ , devoid of life save for myself and two Vehicons who had been half carrying, half dragging me somewhere.

I extricated myself from their grips and staggered upright, feeling humiliated. "I can walk on my own," I bristled, frowning at them.

The pair gave no reply, and my gaze slipped down to the rest of my chassis. At first, I wasn't entirely sure what I was looking at. Most of the paint on the front of it had been seared off and there were numerous places with blackened with char and what looked like spots of melted-on glass. I couldn't begin to count the dents, gashes, and scrapes riddling my frame, fortunately, none looked serious. Then I noticed the cuffs encircling my wrists, and my left arm… didn't exactly resemble an arm anymore. I suddenly felt dizzy and nauseous.

The drones must have seen a slight change in my posture and stepped forward, ready to offer "aid" should the need arise.

"Megatron." I spat, drawing upon every drop of hate I possessed and thrust it into my tone. The Vehicons stepped back, suddenly wary.

* * *

A few minutes of walking and snarling to myself later, I was safely tucked away in a cell. Megatron had visited me, and even though he said it was only for the night, stressed that it "will not take much to become permanent."

I shook my helm vigorously to expel his voice, and concentrated on glaring at the bars of my cell. One thought kept repeating itself inside my helm: the Omega Keys. I had already promised Arcee that I would retrieve their coordinates and bring them to the other Autobots… but at present I was far from capable.

But a flicker of movement caught my optic and I looked up to see none other than Knock Out casually reclining against the wall, almost out of my line of sight.

He looked at me, a wry smirk on his mouth plates. "Déjà vu?"

"You noticed," I grumbled, "allow me to guess… you're going to unlock my cell door and kindly escort me to the med bay."

"You will do no such thing." Came Dreadwing's voice and his heavy pedfalls from down the hall, past where Knock Out stood. A moment later he strode into view. What little confidence I had at the moment fizzled out, and I shrank away from the door.

"Ah, hello, Dreadwing." I said, my tone less than welcoming.

"Starscream." He said "my" name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "Megatron has sent me to collect you."

"What for?" I asked defiantly.

"He did not consider the information to be worth sharing."

Knock Out and I exchanged a nervous glance. "Scrap." I hissed.

* * *

I was seated at a two-bot table across from Megatron, nervously scratching a talon against its face, etching a few random Cybertronian glyphs. _Razor. Sky. Sixty-two. Moron._ He had a cube of energon for himself and even had offered me one, but I had declined. My tanks were roiling so much I doubted I would be able to keep anything down for long. That, and a not-so-paranoid fear of being poisoned. But a cube for me sat out anyways, innocently gleaming in the dim light.

So I just sat there, trembling slightly while I waited for him to speak, feeling each wound crying out for attention and wondering why in Pit he removed my cuffs. "Here," he pushed the energon cube back over to me, "I insist." Its unusually light color suggested that of high grade: energon so refined that it was less necessary for survival and more so for recreational purposes.

"Ah… I'll have to decline, Master, you see, I have a sensitive tank…" I trailed off, shrinking away at the look he was giving me. "Might as well." I mumbled. Not wanting to anger the warlord, I reluctantly took it, grimacing inwardly. I immediately resolved not to get inebriated, regardless of how much pain I was in, physical or mental. I knew that with my slight build, it didn't take more than a couple cubes of high grade for me to lose coherence. That had happened to Starscream a few times long ago, and he hadn't been too fond of the experiences. The unfortunate part? My throat felt as dry as the Sahara; as I hadn't refueled in a couple days, and the digits displaying my tank's level were far lower than I'd like. Not to mention that if I did indulge, I wouldn't be able to feel my wounds. That in and of itself was a sorely tempting offer.

Megatron still watched me intently as if labeling each individual injury on my chassis. I tentatively reached forward and sampled the cube. The cool liquid was incredibly refreshing as it rushed down my throat, and before I knew it, I was hungrily guzzling it. Megatron's innocent demeanor deepened into a sinister smile. I choked and dropped the energon cube onto the table. I'd drank about three quarters of it. _Frag!_

"Oh, I should not have done that, all I'll do is blabber…" I trailed off, already feeling my processor slowing.

The larger mech took a sip from his own cube and then leaned back in his chair, clasping his servos together in his lap. "My second, I have given you more chances for redemption than anyone in Decepticon history. I have been quite generous over the years, have I not?"

"You have, Master." I answered quietly and dipped my helm in a shallow bow, hating myself for it.

He continued, rocking back even further in his seat, "I have tried every method I could think of to correct your treacherous nature, Starscream." I was trembling now as his tone increased in volume, "So tell me, what reason have I to spare _you_ , a mech whose every waking moment is spent plotting against me!"

I did the opposite of what Megatron expected. I sat up straighter, looked him in the optic, and told the truth with an almost confident, steady voice. "None."

He seemed slightly taken aback at that, but then eased up out of his seat, towering over me. His tone wasn't what I expected either, soft and innocent: manipulative. "I shall say this only once: Seven, if your true sympathies lie with the Autobots, go to them."

"What?" I was baffled. "I don't believe I heard you correctly, did you just say I should return to the Autobots?" I said slowly, measuring out the words.

Annoyed, he repeated himself.

My mouth went dry. "You called me Seven." I absentmindedly took another swig from my energon cube, and the warlord refilled it.

"Indeed." He adjusted himself in his seat, "Did you really think that I would not have put the pieces of the puzzle together?"

I stared dumbly at my cube, stunned by what he just said. "B-but how?"

He took another drink from his own cube of high grade before responding, the motion blurred. "Seven, you and the Autobots," the warlord snarled quietly, "have made it all too clear that my true second, Starscream, is no more. Correct?" He said this with the air of someone offhandedly remarking that might rain later. Megatron gently leaned over the table and refilled my cube, then slid it back over to me and leaned back in his chair, "Here, drink."

I gulped down a quaff of high grade and stared down at the table, wings flush with my back as I tried to assert control over my wayward emotions. Lubricant started to well up in my optics and I trembled. I took the newly full cube and drank almost half of it in a single gulp, relishing the bittersweet taste and how the cool liquid soothed my throat. The pain from my wounds was already ebbing, and the feeling was far too sweet for me to resist.

"Yes."

* * *

Seven frowned inwardly, he knew he shouldn't have been drinking that high grade. Megatron wanted him to, and he knew that was a bad thing, but wasn't entirely sure why anymore. The larger mech didn't look like he meant any harm, a small, disarming smile curling up the corners of his mouth plates. It made the Seeker want to smile back, want to trust him. Surely his energon couldn't be _that_ bad. He swirled his third cube's contents and took another sip, the warlord refilled it.

"There," Megatron slid it back over to him, and took a light sip from his own cube. The larger mech's build allowed for him to drain several cubes of high grade if he wanted to and remain unfazed.

The Seeker huffed, "Please. Is my glossa not slippery enough… without the high grade?"

"Ah, for normal practices, yes." The warlord flashed him a disarming smile but the Seeker missed it as he eyed his cube warily. He dropped the veneer of pleasantry, "Seven, if I were going to inflict harm upon you, have I not had many opportunities to do so, even in the past hours?"

"True," the smaller mech reluctantly agreed. "Though a part of me doesn't think this is just meant to be regular banter."

"On the contrary, my dear Seeker," Megatron replied, looking appalled at the very thought. "I believe that we should view this as an opportunity to speak freely to one another, do you not agree? Drink." he encouraged.

"If you insist," Seven frowned, eyeing the cube.

"I do."

The Seeker took a cautious sip, and gradually letting his guard down.

The warlord looked satisfied as Seven set his now-empty cube down, wiping at his mouth. Megatron reached forward to refill it again for him, "Now, where were we?"

"High grade." The Seeker scowled at himself. "Primus, I haven't had any of this stuff in ages… or Starscream hadn't, I'm not sure. Heh, I shouldn' be drinking this… oh, this isn't good…" he clacked his talons together nervously.

"Ah, that's right. Starscream, was it?" Seven nodded, not wanting to say anything. "Then might I ask why you deserted the Autobots?"

"I-I dunno…" Seven took another drink and remembered he had resolved not to do something, but what that resolution had been… the Seeker shook his helm at himself. He nursed his cube, feeling euphoria pouring into him as the pain flowed out.

"Seven," Megatron said, his servos folded neatly on the tabletop, "If there is no reason for your actions, then go to them. Go back to the Autobots if that is where your loyalty lies."

The silver Seeker frowned, his normally mild stutter worsening, "W-w-why're you letting me go…?"

"Because, my dear Seeker," The warlord's voice was a soft purr as he leaned closer to the smaller mech, filling his cube again, "you have nowhere else to go." His smirk deepened. "Clearly, you do not belong in our ranks, as Starscream did."

"Dun' talk about 'im!" Seven snapped and shuddered, furiously shaking his helm and blinking rapidly. He whimpered and drew into himself, unsteadily wrapping his arms around his knees and pulled them up to his chest plate. But he took a sharp intake as he tightened his broken arm and whimpered again. The Seeker looked back to the warlord across from him hopefully, "C-can I really join the 'Bots again?"

Megatron sighed. "You may, but know this: they were the ones responsible for Starscream's termination."

"W-whaddya mean?"

Megatron's patience was waning. "Focus! Optimus knew from the beginning that Starscream was going to perish," the warlord reasoned. He paused, waiting for the clone to catch on. Megatron shook his helm, "and if memory serves, the Autobots gave up hope of saving him, not even attempting to find a cure."

"No!" Seven protested. But then his optics dimmed reflexively, "I don' feel so good… fraggin' high grade… why am I doin' this, it's a horrible idea…"

The warlord spoke with greater haste after hearing this, wanting to make the most of every second. "Ah, but did you ever see the 'cure'? Did they ever attempt to administer what they had made to Starscream?" He pressed.

Seven's brow furrowed as he grappled with his thoughts for a moment, "N-no… buh I du– _hic_ –dunno, they din' seem like it. Doc's always," he waved a wobbly servo to move the words along, "frettin' over somethin', 'e din' ever… uh, show me a–a, what's it called? An… ugh, I can' remem'er." The Seeker pressed his servos to his temples, "Somethin' 'bout anti– _hic_ –dotes, yeh know? Yeah, yeah," he nodded at himself, "buh you dun need one unless you're sick, see?" He smirked triumphantly and sloppily slapped the table. "'Cept Stah was sick, tha's not good… an' he needed the… uh, cure! The cure!" Seven exclaimed happily, poking the side of his helm. In an instant, his expression fell. "Buh 'e din' get cured…"

"Is that so?" The warlord put a servo to his large chest plate in mock surprise. "Did Starscream ever have a say in this?"

The Seeker was becoming agitated, "No, buh he-he din' ask though."

Contempt and triumph flashed across Megatron's faceplates. "Seven," the Seeker looked up to him again, optics bright, "they sealed Starscream's fate. The _Autobots_ put the final nail in his coffin, my dear second. We Decepticons would gladly have helped, had you brought him to us. You saw the cure for yourself." He sneered slightly, "But unless I am mistaken, you still wish to join them?"

"No." The Seeker growled. "Not a-anymore." Seven stumbled up out of his chair, tottering on his pedes. Megatron watched him, waiting for any reactions. "Nuh-not anymore," he repeated. But then a thought tickled at the back of his muddled processor and struggled to the surface. "Valor," he said thickly, swaying.

Megatron wrung his servos in though. "Yes, your sword. A pity, really. It was destroyed in the explosion, blown to pieces. It was a fine tool."

"Explosion?" Seven slurred, his memory failing him. A few error messages flashed across his vision, but he couldn't decipher them. He didn't really care enough to try.

"When the dark energon and red energon met, that is, the blades of our swords, they violently repelled each other. You are fortunate to still function, if I heard Knock Out correctly." He sneered. "Though I am curious as to why it had not happened before…" he trailed off and the jet sat back down, well, fell into his seat, reaching for his cube.

Seven blinked at him. "Can I go… I don' know, uh… to my quarters or somethin'? Heh, I din' think this'd take so long," he slurred, and took a deep drink.

Megatron swept his gaze over the Seeker's chassis with a trained optic, "Noted. But there remain matters to discuss, and you will not leave until we are through, am I clear?" he knew the jet's incoherence would give way to exhaustion soon enough, so all he had to do was wait and hope Seven wouldn't black out before then…

The Seeker bobbed his helm and listed to the right side of his chair, and made the mistake of trying to steady himself with his broken arm. He grimaced, clutching the plating over his tank. "Frag, I really don' feel good."

Megatron frowned, wanting to sneer; _Of course you don't_. "All the more reason to be swift, Seven." He clapped his servos together, the sharp noise startling the smaller mech and making him slightly more alert. "So focus! If you aid our noble cause in the Autobots' subjugation, Starscream will be avenged. All we need to know is the location of their base." the warlord asked in gentle, calming tones. He knew all too well from millennia with Starscream that he could guess if Seven got worked up—especially being overcharged—the warlord would never get a straight answer out of him. The warlord was beginning to regret this.

Seven seemed to mull it over, "I-I– _hic_ –don' think I'm suppos– _hic_ –'posed to tell you," he hiccupped, confusion clouding his features. "Am I?"

Megatron feigned innocence, "Oh, really? Seven, I have every confidence in you. You can tell me."

The clone struggled for an answer. "Uh… you're n-not supposed to– _hic_ –know, uh…"

"Who said?" The warlord pressed, leaning over the table but remaining in his seat. Seven finished off another cube before replying.

"Uh… Opti-Op'imus did– _hic_ –I thin'…"

"The Autobots were responsible for Starscream's demise, it is as simple as that. Are you still willing to trust Optimus Prime, our archenemy, while he retains all the blame?" Megatron laid a servo on the Seeker's shoulder plate, trying to do everything to convince him. The warlord was surprised to feel that he felt feverish, his core temperature likely well above normal levels. This worried Megatron, Seven was in no fit state whatsoever to do much of anything at present, being overcharged, which was Megatron's work, the high grade slowing his fans. Not to mention his broken left arm. Knock Out certainly had his work cut out for him when the warlord was through with the Seeker.

Seven's thin frame sagged against his chair and Megatron snapped back to the present, seeing that the Seeker's optics were dark. He tapped his faceplates with the tips of his claws and the smaller mech jerked more-or-less upright, optics glazed.

"Wha'd I mith?" He slurred, wings fluttering as he slipped in his seat.

Megatron's optics narrowed and he elected not to answer, leaning away from the Seeker. Seven saw his energon cube sitting innocently in front of him and reached for it. The warlord made no move to stop him, other than shifting in his own seat.

"Seven," the larger mech continued in the same gentle, disarming tone, "tell me the location of the Autobot base." The Seeker took a deep drink from his cube and replaced it on the table. It was empty, but this time the warlord didn't refill it. The Seeker had had enough, seven or eight cubes was far too much for him as it was.

Seven's glossa felt thick in his mouth, "It's… uh…" his wings snapped upright, quivering as he leaned over the right side of his chair and purged less-than-fresh high grade onto the floor until he was dry heaving.

Megatron's faceplates contorted with disgust as the stench hit his nasal sensors. Nevertheless, he pressed on. "Continue," he encouraged through gritted denta after the Seeker had recovered somewhat, slumping back into his seat.

"I-I shouldn' tell you," Seven slurred matter-of-factly, "Should I?"

"Yes, and you will." The warlord replied, his tone icing over.

The smaller mech's expression brightened, "See, I though' you– _hic_ –weren' supposed t-to know, 'cause, uh… 'Cee said somethin'…" his brow furrowed in thought, "somethin' 'bout– _hic_ –about Keys–"

This had piqued Megatron's interest. "Really?"

Seven huffed wryly, "Y-yeah, buh the base dun'–doesn' have keys, you know?" The warlord listened patiently, motioning for the clone to continue. "Uh, but 'Cee says they–they're k-keys to Cybertron, I thin'– _hic_ –somethin' to do with, uh…" more error messages made an appearance in his vision.

"Keys to Cybertron," Megatron murmured to himself, "to open what? Where?"

"They'll, uh, brin' it back… our b-base doesn' haf 'em… buh keys fih in a lock, and wha's there tuh lock, I-I…" he started talking faster and faster, "I saw 'Cee there, she saw me too, buh it was loud, and we din' haff any keys…" Seven slurred, shaking his helm. This simple motion brought on a fit of gagging, but nothing came up.

Megatron had had enough, he wasn't going to get any answers out of the Seeker this way. He opened a comm and called for medical assistance. Knock Out appeared a minute or so later.

"Ah, Lord Megatron, I thought I'd find you here–" the medic broke off, taking in the scene in front of him. "Starscream?"

"Se-Seven," the Seeker corrected thickly. "B-b-buh he– _hic_ –looked a loh like, uh, me, yeah. I thin' he did, righ'? He was funny some– _hic_ –sometimes… I-I… where'd he go tuh anyway?" He looked around as if expecting to find his deceased double hiding under a chair. "Stah? Oh… righ', he wuz– _hic_ –sick… and he d-died, din' 'e? Fraggig' MECH, I'll tear 'em all tuh– _hic_ –slaggin' pieces if I see 'em again… yeh know, they'd be adkin' for it for awhile, an' they'll get wha's comin' tuh 'em…" his jabbering slurred together until it was indecipherable. The jet was saying anything and everything, none of it worth a cent. The red mech took in the silver mech's damaged and trembling frame, his broken-looking arm, the paint stripped from the front of his chassis and various spots were coated with char from the explosion.

Knock Out was dumbstruck, looking to Megatron and then the pile of empty cubes in front of the Seeker. "What have you done?"

"What I needed to," the warlord replied smoothly.

The red mech steeled himself for a rebuke, "You can't just give a Seeker his size that much high grade!"

"Unless if I am mistaken, I just did." Megatron sneered. "So, doctor, if I were you, I would not tarry."

"Seven, here," the medic went over to the Seeker and pulled him up out of his chair. "Ugh, how can you be so heavy yet so thin?!" The medic grumbled. He shot an accusing glare at Megatron and straightened up as best he could, half carrying the trashed mech.

"I'm no–I'm… I wanna– _hic_ –go– _hic_ –ba' to base… I miss Stah…" Seven moaned quietly. "I miss Stah! I luv'd him, we're jus' like– _hic_ –brothers… alwa's… miss 'im a lot… he was so… so, um… like me…"

Knock Out's disgust quickly turned into pity for the poor Seeker. It was not only saddening to see the mech in the state he was, but realizing how deep his connection had been to Starscream tugged on the medic's spark. He tried to smile at the Seeker, "Let's get you all clean and fixed up, how does that sound?"

"Stah…"

* * *

My processor felt unbearably slow, like it was packed with cotton and a tiny person was running around inside of it with a hammer. I groaned, blinking against the harsh light of the room and then simply gave up, squeezing my optics shut and wishing the aching of my limbs to go away. Somehow, I was hot and cold at the same time, my circuits feeling like they had been reformatted and flipped inside out. My glossa felt large and fuzzy in my mouth.

"Ah, how was your beauty sleep?" Knock Out's voice asked sarcastically from somewhere above me.

"Go away," I grumbled, cracking open my optics. He didn't.

He glanced at a screen beside the med berh I laid on, "Fortunately for you, your hangover's mostly worn off. I bet it would've been real nasty."

"What's this about a hangover, for Primus' sake?" I asked thickly, my processor still feeling far slower than normal.

"Ha, ha. Have you seen yourself? You look like Pit. What did you tell Megatron?" The medic pressed, his tone becoming much more serious.

I was well past being confused. "What?"

"Scrap!" He hissed to himself, slamming a fist against a table.

"What?" I barked, my tone becoming increasingly more urgent.

Knock Out shook his helm, "You really don't remember?" I shook my helm and tried to rid myself of the stupor clouding my thoughts, "Of course you don't…"

"Stop speaking in riddles!" I snapped, pushing myself up off the med berth.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He finally asked, eyeing me with an air of condescension.

I thought for a moment, slowly feeling my thoughts come into clearer focus, "There was an explosion in the desert…" my brow creased, "and then I woke up aboard this accursed ship, then Megatron wanted to speak with me–he kept giving me high grade… no, oh no…" I trailed off, seeing that my left arm was in a sling. A servo clenched around my spark.

Knock Out shook his helm in my peripheral vision. My attention didn't waver from my arm. "Don't worry, it'll heal soon enough. And yes, you can transform with it like that." I shuttered my optics and sighed heavily, getting up off the berth. He continued, "You must not have spilled anything, because when you were still passed out, Megatron stuck a cortical patch into your helm."

I trembled, "… And?"

"He knows where the Autobot base is. I tried to stop him, but if I unplugged him when he was inside your helm…"

"He would've been trapped inside. I know." I whimpered, not having the faintest inkling of what to do.

"Are you certain you didn't tell him anything?"

"What does it matter now? He knows the location of our base, and will indubitably send in an airstrike!"

"Why didn't you abstain? None of this slag would have happened if you just left that high grade alone!" Knock Out snapped. "You didn't even have a clue of what you were saying or where you were when I walked in!"

"I was thirsty! And Primus knows what Megatron would have done if I hadn't accepted!" I protested lamely.

"But you kept doing it!" He berated, jabbing an accusing finger at me. "You were on the brink of stasis lock when I got you in here, thank Primus for that! Look," the red mech said, getting closer, "this is on you. _You_ fragged up royally, so leave me out of this. Sure, you busted your arm, were forced to get overcharged, and this will possibly end the war in favor of the Decepticons–"

"If you're trying to cheer me up, it isn't working!" I spat.

He turned away for a moment, "That isn't what I'm worried about. The Big 'M' is getting impatient with you unconscious for so long, he was checking in every few hours."

I gulped, "Does this mean…"

The medic gave me a sympathetic look, "He wants you leading the charge. Up close and personal."

* * *

 **A/N: Truth be told, I've never been drunk and most of this has been speculation, but nonetheless it was fun to write at the poor Seeker's expense. He never gets a break, does he?**


	26. 26 - Keys

XXVI - Keys

Megatron glared down at the Dark Star Saber, that is, what remained of it. "Tell me, Soundwave, how is it that my second's petty little knife managed to do _this_ to my sword!" The warlord's tone shook with rage. All that remained of the once magnificent, violently purple blade was a shard stuck to the hilt. Contrary to what Megatron told Seven, Valor laid innocently next to it, completely intact and unscathed.

Soundwave played a video on his visor. Seven and Megatron were locked in combat, then their swords collided and there was a massive, blinding explosion where the blades had met. The warlord had regained consciousness before any of the Decepticons had ground bridged to the location, however Seven was less fortunate. Megatron remembered pulling himself to his pedes and seeing the Seeker's chassis. Half buried beneath the sand with numerous wounds still trickling energon left the warlord thinking he had expired. All the paint on his front had been stripped away by the force and heat of the blast, and his left arm was contorted at a bad angle beneath him. He looked far from alive, save for the sluggish dripping of energon leaking from his wounds the Dark Star Saber had dealt, proving his pumps still functioned.

Megatron caught himself hoping that was the case. The warlord retrieved his sword, which had been shattered by Valor. The Seeker's scarlet blade, which grants the user significantly enhanced speed, shimmered in the sand a distance away, washed white in the light of the planet's lone moon. He retrieved that as well, a cold fury gripping him.

But when Megatron went over to investigate Seven, he saw the smaller mech's shallow intakes and felt each gentle throb of his spark once he laid two fingers against his neck cables. So he sighed and called for a ground bridge, trying to convince himself that Seven was more valuable to him alive. The warlord's talons dug into his arm but Seven remained like a rag doll, oblivious to his new injury as energon bubbled up around Megatron's fingertips.

After all, the traitorous Seeker knew the location of the Autobot base. And for that alone, he was invaluable.

The video feed cut out with a small burst of static.

* * *

"We got Omega Key número uno!" Smokescreen exclaimed, an idiotic, triumphant grin plastered to his faceplates as he held the thing up.

From the platform, Raf was surprised. "¿Puedes hablar en Español?" he asked, adopting an accent.

The young mech's helm swung over to him, "Uh, what?"

The boy shook his head slightly, "Never mind."

Bulkhead ignored them, "But there are still three more we've gotta find."

"And the 'Cons are the only ones with the coordinates," Miko frowned, crossing her arms.

"Hey," Arcee piped up, earning the Autobots' attention, "I should have said this earlier, but I was thinking. Seven cornered me earlier while you were fighting."

"Arcee, are you alright?" Ratchet asked.

"Did he harm you?" Optimus prodded.

"I was worried at first, but no, nothing like that." She answered. "He lunged at me with his sword–faster than what should've been possible, but instead of terminating me, we snuck away from the battle."

"Ooh, romance!" Miko giggled from the platform.

Arcee gave her a patronizing glare, then continued. "My point is that it was an act. All of it. Seven isn't really on Megatron's side—he proved it by saving Optimus, and I made sure he wouldn't do anything to harm us." she added after receiving disbelieving looks. "He won't try anything. So, I told him about the Omega Keys."

"And?" Smokescreen pressed excitedly.

"He's going to get them for us." she stated, "At least, try to."

"Ha! I'd like to see that!" Bulkhead scoffed.

Arcee frowned, "So will I."

* * *

"Frag!" I spat. "When is he going to strike?"

Knock Out drummed his fingers on the side of my leg and I kicked at him. "As I said, the Big 'M' wanted me to let him know when you were awake so you could lead it yourself."

Threads of panic wormed their way into my processor, tangling my thoughts. I gagged, but my tank was empty enough that nothing came up. All that high grade, and nothing stayed down. _Perhaps_ , I thought, _Knock Out had to siphon the rest of it out_. I thought darkly.

My voice was staticky, "Correct me if I am wrong, but _Lord_ Megatron now knows of the Omega Keys' existence," I began to tick them off on my fingers, "the location of the Autobot base, Starscream's demise, and unless if I am mistaken, Valor is shrapnel. Did I miss anything?"

"One would hope so," Knock Out replied dryly. "You fragged up royally."

I huffed, looking away. "If that wretched femme hadn't shot me, neither of us would be here right now."

"Look on the bright side, Seven," Knock Out broke in, trying to sound upbeat, "if she hadn't and we remained with the Autobots, we'd still be at square one. Now, we have access to the Iacon database and the Keys' location, that is, once Soundwave finishes decoding them."

"And that is precisely the problem. Soundwave won't come to _us_ about their location, now will he? Did you think we _weren't_ going to have to steal it? Although that would be nice…" I grumbled, pacing back and forth.

"Back up, what about their base? There won't be any Autobots to bring the Omega Keys to if you blow them sky high!" Knock Out reminded.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" I snapped, "Megatron has me in a corner! Either I join my double at his servo, or terminate my only allies! My _friends_!" My voice grew shrill.

The door to the bay opened, and a certain warlord stepped through, uninvited. I stiffened, hoping with all my spark he hadn't heard. "I hope I am not intruding," he cocked his helm slightly, implying that he didn't care and had heard everything. My tank suddenly found itself in my pedes.

Knock Out waved a servo, "Not at all, my Lordship. To what do we owe the honor?"

"I merely wanted to check upon our dear Seeker's condition." He replied innocently. The larger mech looked to me with concern in his optics. I couldn't discern if it was genuine or not, and that disturbed me. "How are you?"

I ruffled my wings and swung the arm that was in a sling, making sure he noticed. "Are there not more important matters warranting your attention?

"None that I need deal with at this very second."

"It was a rhetorical question." I replied hotly.

He stepped away and opened a comm, speaking to the air. "Dreadwing, meet Seven and I on the bridge immediately." The warlord cast a sideways, knowing glance at me, "We have a long-awaited victory to seize."

* * *

Megatron folded his servos behind his back and turned for face me. I stood up straighter, staring him in the optic with every bit of defiance I could muster. "Seven, Dreadwing has standing orders to terminate you if you even _think_ of joining their ranks once again, am I clear?"

"Like glass, Master."

"Good. Dreadwing," he turned to his first lieutenant, "your presence is merely to watch and monitor Seven's actions."

"With all due respect, my liege, Soundwave is better suited for that task than I." The large Seeker rumbled.

"Soundwave," Megatron began, not even glancing at the silent mech standing behind him at a console, "is better suited decoding the last four relics' coordinates."

"Of course, Ma–"

I broke in, "My Lord, when shall we–"

"Silence! Do not interrupt your superiors!" Megatron roared, stepping up close to me.

I hung my helm, giving the floor between my pedes a death stare. "Yes, apologies, my liege. I merely have yet to grow accustomed to–"

"Silence!" He barked again. "Perhaps, Seven, you should take a cue from Soundwave once in awhile and _keep things to yourself_."

My wings drooped even further and I muttered a quiet "Yes, Master."

Satisfied, Megatron looked to Dreadwing once again. The blue Seeker wore a smug smirk that I wanted to wash off his faceplates with his energon. My servos balled into fists and I ignored the pain coming from my left.

"When shall we depart?" he asked.

"Immediately. Take a squadron of drones with you, given _his_ incompetence," the silver mech jerked his helm at me. My servos clenched tighter.

Dreadwing gave him a shallow, respectful bow as the warlord turned away, striding over to check Soundwave's progress. "As you wish, my Lord." Together, we walked out into the hall, knowing we were dismissed.

I turned to the larger Seeker, "I shall collect the Vehicons, meet me on the flight deck."

"You do not give the orders here, _clone_." The larger Seeker growled.

My wings fluttered, "My mistake, _Commander_." I strode away, cutting off any opportunity for him to speak again. I had other things in mind than getting drones.

* * *

My phone suddenly rang, right in the middle of our lab in science class. The familiar opening riffs of "Robot Rock" by Daft Punk sounded out from my backpack, a bit muffled as I hastily tugged off my gloves with my teeth, fairly certain there wasn't any acid on them (OSHA would not approve). I hurried over to silence the ringer.

"Is that urgent?" My teacher asked, leaning over. I started, not having realized she was over here.

I checked the display for the caller ID. Seven's flustered faceplates stared up at me, the picture being the one Miko took in our base awhile ago. I glanced at my teacher to make sure she hadn't seen and answered it, keeping the volume off. "Yeah, can I go take it?" I jerked my thumb at the door, bouncing on the balls of my feet.

"Be quick about it, this lab is worth a large portion of your grade. Make sure to download the worksheet on pH for tomorrow, you'll need to neutralize compounds, remember, that's number seven…"

I closed the door to the classroom, standing in the deserted hallway, looking out a window. I pressed my cell to my ear, "Sev, what's wrong? Everyone at the base is saying you joined the 'Cons again! No one's heard from you in forever! Man, what gives?!"

The silver Seeker sighed on the other end, sounding weary. "They aren't wrong."

"What!?" I almost dropped my phone.

"It wasn't by entirely choice, I don't know what I was thinking then! But listen!" He snapped, and his tone took on a high note of fear. "Megatron is forcing Dreadwing and I–"

"Who?"

"This toadying blue Seeker, my _Lord's_ new second-in-command." the mech growled, "but Megatron is–is going to make me annihilate the Autobot base. I can't stop it. _He knows where it is,_ Oliver!"

I shoved my fist in my mouth to stifle a gasp. "How do we stop him?"

"Did you not just hear me? _We can't!_ Clear everyone out of the base with everything of importance, but you only have an hour! I'm stalling as it is! Tell the Autobots to go to my half of the _Harbinger_ , and I'll meet them there as soon as I can with the Omega Keys in servo."

"I-I don't know how I'll–"

"I don't care!" He shrieked, incenting me to hold the phone further away. "You have to get them out of there, understand me?!" A student passed me in the hallway giving me a strange look as she twirled an earbud, teal-dyed hair shining in the light from the ceiling.

"Why are you calling me instead of calling the Autobots directly?" I shot back after waiting for her to walk out of earshot. "And why didn't you call earlier!?"

"Do you think that would actually work from the warship? All comm signals, ingoing and outgoing, are tracked from here. It was a huge risk to contact you, and you will have to dispose of your phone or change its number as soon as possible. The Decepticons might have already found your position. And I was… preoccupied." It went without saying that he was hiding something, but there was no time to question him.

"Like they care where I go to school."

"Shut up!" He screeched, "Just go, GO!"

"Alright, alright! I'll be as fast as I can, and I'll tell my mom and Will so they can help–"

"No!"

"What? Why?"

"There isn't time!" The link cut out.

"Seven?" I pressed my phone to my ear, "Seven?" I turned it off, stuffing it into the same pocket. I ran back into the classroom and snagged my backpack, right past the teacher. "I need to go," I said to her.

She looked about to reply, but I was already out the door and sprinting towards Will's classroom. I walked the last few steps, evening out my breaths and straightened my hair so it didn't look like I had been running. I gingerly opened the door and stepped over the threshold, looking to the teacher.

"May I grab Will? He's… uh, needed for the school yearbook." I lied innocently.

"Absolutely," She smiled, stopping in the middle of what looked like a cubic graph. She looked to him, sitting the back of the class, zipping his backpack closed. "Will, you are free to go with—Oliver, is it?"

"Yeah."

"Just be sure to do tonight's homework."

He smirked at her lightly, "Polynomials? It'll be a cinch."

We walked out of the room together and he planted his hands on his hips in a no-nonsense stance. "Spill."

I quickly relayed what Seven had told me, speaking so fast that I tripped over several syllables.

"What! What are you waiting for? We've gotta go!" He gasped, pulling me along as we broke into a run.

I steered us into the boys' bathroom, startling a freshman. He ran out without a backward glance. I turned my phone on again, this time dialing for the Autobot base's main comm.

Ratchet's irritated voice answered after exactly two rings. "Yes? What is it, Oliver?"

"Listen, the 'Cons know your base's location. You all have to clear out of there, now! They're going to blow it sky high within a couple hours! Take everything valuable, like the relics and energon, leave the rest!" I said urgently. "Send a bridge, we can help!"

Ratchet gasped, "Are you certain of this?!"

"More than anything in my life."

"Who is 'we'?"

"Me and Will."

"I am not sending a ground bridge! You will only risk yourselves further when it is unnecessary, and I cannot condone that again!"

"What! Doc, we can help!" Will interjected.

"My answer is final! Contact your mother and the other children, inform them of the situation. I need to reach the others."

"They aren't there with you?" I exclaimed.

"Only Bumblebee," the medic replied, and the scout chirped from somewhere behind him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to comm Agent Fowler and the others." He hung up.

I shut off my phone, and Will looked to me. "Well, that was rude of him."

I clapped a hand to my head, "I just remembered! Fowler is here today, lecturing kids about joining the armed forces!"

He looked at me, astonished, "You've got to be joking."

"Would I joke about this?" I shot back.

We raced off to the gym, where he was speaking. But he wasn't there. He was in a staff lounge, sipping at a cappuccino with disinterest while scrolling through the news on a computer.

"Agent Fowler, Agent Fowler!" I panted, charging into the room with Will at my heels. Thankfully, no one else, least of all teachers, were in there with us.

"What is it? I am busy– _Oliver? Will?_ "

"That's Mr. President to you," Will crossed his arms.

The man stood up abruptly, "What is it? Why are you here? I can't be bothered, I'm getting ready to give my next lecture–"

"Yes, we know." I broke in. "We go to school here…" I told him the same thing I told Will: Seven's frantic doomsday message.

He nodded somberly, "I need to get a hold of the doc." He flipped open his phone—an honest-to-goodness flip phone, and put it to his ear. "Ratchet? This is an emergency! Send a ground bridge, now!" One opened a few steps in front of us.

"You've got to be kidding me," Will huffed, walking through it. Agent Fowler and I followed.

* * *

My engine screamed over the wind as I shot down towards the distant Autobot base, the flat tip of the missile silo protruding from the top of the butte like a little silver cap. True to his word, Knock Out's sling did the trick. Flying felt no different than normal. Dreadwing followed a short distance behind me with a small fleet of drones fanned out behind him. Save for us and the wind, all was quiet. Too quiet. The sun was setting on the horizon to our backs, washing the burnt-orange landscape in a darker hue of red. I adjusted my flaps as a sudden gust tried to buffet me downwards. My engine sputtered in irritation.

"What is it?" Dreadwing asked. Our proximity was such that he had no need for the comm.

"Turbulence, Commander." I replied stiffly.

"See to it that you stay the course, we do not want to disappoint our master."

"Of course, sir."

We were coming very close to their base indeed, I could make out the lines signifying the separations of metal plates on the flat door atop the butte. I remembered the first and last time I had stood atop it, hungry, fatigued, cold, and ailing from the shadow zone's effects to boot. But inside was a different story. The base I had come to think of as "home," and all the bots, even humans inside of it were, for lack of a better word, my friends. And I was about to blow it all to smithereens.

I did a barrel roll to the left, wanting the feeling of the air around my fuselage and wings to vanish. I straightened back on course and neither Dreadwing nor the drones made any comment of it. We flew closer and closer to the base, and I flew slower and slower, wanting to stop circumstances as much as possible. I hoped and prayed with all my spark that everyone had gotten out of there. I hadn't been able to contact anyone, not even Oliver, to make sure they were safe before Dreadwing came to see why I wasn't fetching the Vehicons. It was nauseating to think about.

"Why are you slowing?" Dreadwing growled, "The longer we fly, the more time the wretched Autobots have to escape."

"As I am well aware," I hissed beneath my vocalizer.

"Then be swift, unless you wish to earn an even swifter termination."

I halted in midair, "I can't… I can't do this! I can't terminate them!" Dreadwing looped around in a sharp arc, halting meters in front of me.

"You will. That is an order from Megatron, and mark my words, it is one you shall follow through with. They have brainwashed you into believing they were your allies–"

"No, _you_ are the one here who's brainwashed!" I snapped. "Can't you see that this war will never end, not unless Megatron is finished?! We must unite against him, or risk exterminating our race, along with our dead planet! There are two sides to every war, and _you_ are on the wrong one! Skyquake learned the hard way," I hissed quietly.

"There are also two sides to every coin, and it seems you got the tail end of Starscream's, _clone_." He rumbled, making the word a derogatory slur. "Destroy the Autobots' base, or face execution."

"Go ahead," I snarled, taking him aback, "terminate me. Here and now. I'm sure the Autobots are watching. So go on, what are you waiting for? Make me a martyr." A morbid grin twisted my faceplates, albeit he couldn't see in my jet mode.

He snarled quietly to himself, "Do not think we are finished," the blue jet swung around and took up his position directly behind me, "or that I will not shoot you out of the sky if you dare hesitate again."

I remained silent, a grim determination settling over me. We descended upon the base's roof, casting slanting shadows over its angular surface. I readied my missiles, hating myself with every circuit in my chassis as I fired. The drones joined in and I killed my engine right in front of Dreadwing, falling into the plume of fire erupting from what used to be their base. He would have to be mad to dive after me. Anyone would have had to have been, and who knew? Maybe I had a couple screws loose after all.

But that was fine by me.


	27. 27 - Keys II

XXVII - Keys II

I crash-landed among twisted steel bars that raked my wings like furious servos and transformed, ash swirling around me. I could barely make out the mound on on the ground below which marked where Starscream's chassis rested, spared from the blast.

Dreadwing and the drones probably thought I had managed to terminate myself, but my true intentions were far from that. I got to my pedes, more than ready to scour the burning wreckage for any sign of my allies, dead or alive. The blue Seeker would come down here at any moment to look for my chassis and theirs, so I worked at a fevered pace, stubbornly trying to turn stones and beams with my only working arm. But they still yielded nothing.

I lifted another massive beam, grunting under its weight and leaned it against my shoulder plate for support, letting it drop in a different direction. A black servo reached for nothing behind where it used to lay, connected to a red arm half-buried beneath rubble. Starting to tremble in fear of the worst, I moved some wreckage out of the way, piece by piece with excruciating slowness thanks to my bad arm. Finally, the majority of Optimus' chassis was exposed.

"It appears our job is finished," Dreadwing's voice spoke up from behind me.

I started and whirled around, chassis shaking with sobs. "I-I did this… this is my fault…" I looked back to what used to be the Prime, feeling utterly crushed. Here was our last hope, taken out by a few boulders and an airstrike he had no idea was coming. I dove back into the rubble, tearing the boulders apart looking for the rest of my fallen comrades. Dreadwing finally dragged me away, disgust in his optics as he looked me over. My hyper-sensitive wings were shredded from the steel beams I hadn't bothered worming around, my servo was leaking a little energon, and my entire chassis had scrapes and spots of char from the crash. Everything hurt like Pit, especially my wings.

"B-but the others, they're here, aren't they?" I whimpered, my voice as tremulous as my frame. If the blue Seeker took pity on me, he didn't show it. He let go of my shoulder plate and I stared at the Prime's chassis, feeling as if the very life was draining out of my frame.

Dreadwing didn't answer, instead, opened a comm. "My liege, the deed is done." A second later, ground bridge materialized in front of him and he motioned for me to go through first. Helm hung, I dragged my pedes towards the bridge and stumbled over rubble that cropped up in my path, ruined wings low. The other mech and drones followed behind me, I guessed, because I didn't look back.

 _This isn't how it's supposed to end!_ I thought, and stepped onto the bridge of the _Nemesis_.

Megatron came over and crouched right in front of me to get his helm level with mine, "Why, Seven, this is a cause for celebration! The Autobots have been eliminated, and with them, the war that has plagued our race for thousands of years! Vehicons are scouring the site of their base as we speak, confirming our long-awaited victory. Rest assured, if any Autobots remain alive they shall be taken as prisoners of war. But there remains one thing in order."

"What more?" I groaned, breaking his scarlet gaze to focus on my pedes.

He opened a comm to the entire warship, "Tonight, we Decepticons celebrate our victory over Optimus Prime and his Autobots, may they rust in peace!"

* * *

 _Earlier…_

Will jogged through the ground bridge into the Autobots' base, followed by Agent Fowler and I. Optimus, Arcee, and Bumblebee were present, but Bulkhead and Smokescreen had yet to return from wherever they were.

Ratchet closed the bridge with a pull from the lever, grumbling, "Ever since Starscream slammed that thing it has been glitches at every turn…" his optics fell onto my friend and I, "did I not tell you two to stay behind! If the Decepticons are indeed coming, you are risking your very lives just by being here!"

"Hey, without me you wouldn't even know that they are!" I snapped. "Sev said we should go to the _Harbinger_ , anyone else got a better idea?"

No one objected, not even Optimus.

"It'll be nice to have access to our own technology for a change, albeit Decepticon and no doubt dilapidated." Ratchet huffed.

"Hey, it's not too bad. Scream and Sev managed just fine as far as I could tell," Will broke in.

"Oh, and what do you know about Cybertronian technology?"

"Well…"

"What are the status of Bulkhead and Smokescreen?" Optimus asked, effectively ending our mild argument.

Ratchet located their signals on the screen, "En route here. I will activate the ground bridge."

A minute later, everyone was present and accounted for.

"Now what?" Smokescreen asked, looking at the screens.

"Now, we get the relics and hightail it outta here!" Miko exclaimed like it was obvious.

"Miko is correct." Optimus agreed, "Autobots, collect the relics and bring them back here. We will ground bridge to the _Harbinger_ in precisely five minutes."

"Start your engines!" Miko began.

"Go!" Will and I shouted. The five of us watched as they all broke off, going to get the relics. Optimus joined them, the Star Saber already in its place on his back.

Bumblebee chirped something. "Polarity Gauntlet and shrink ray," Raf translated.

"I call dibs on the phase shifter and the Key!" Smokescreen exclaimed, racing off.

"Don't drop it, kid." Arcee cautioned. "I'll get the Apex Armor and the Immobilizer."

"I've got the Spark Extractor and energon harvester then," Bulkhead said last. "Optimus?" But the Prime had vanished.

* * *

 _The present_

I wasn't in the mood to celebrate, or do much of anything at all, really. I laid on my ruined wings—which hurt quite a bit—on my berth in my quarters, staring blankly at the ceiling. Memories of the Autobots and my all-too-brief span of a handful of months spent there swirled around my helm. Lost in thought, I laid there for what felt like quite some time, on the verge of tears. I saw Optimus' chassis and could process the thought that he was gone, but the others? It was just too much too fast. Arcee and Ratchet's sarcastic quips? Smokescreen's banter? Bumblebee's humor? Bulkhead's… well… strength?

A thought sprung into my helm, a faint glimmer of hope in the void. I sat up and opened my comm to the _Harbinger_ 's frequency, "Hello?"

Static.

"Hello? Any-anyone there?"

More static.

"Is anyone reading me?" I shuddered, despairing. Lubricant began to slip down my cheek plates. "P-please… I can't be alone…"

* * *

Optimus dragged Nemesis Prime's chassis into the main atrium of their base, the last to return.

"You are late by six seconds," Ratchet declared. The Prime gave him a look.

"What's that for?" Jack asked, looking at the robot chassis he dragged. "I mean, I thought we got rid of it."

"The base is lost, and this shall be our decoy for when the Decepticon air raid comes, because they will undoubtedly search the rubble for our chassis." Optimus said grimly.

"Good thinking!" Bulkhead agreed.

"That'll throw 'em off our scent for sure!" Smokescreen chimed in, grinning.

"Hate to rain on the parade," Arcee cut in, "but what about the rest of us?"

Bulkhead shrugged, raising his servos, "Who knows? With any luck, they'll do some more digging and figure we're buried too deep."

Arcee looked dubious, but didn't press him further. She looked around, "We're all here, what's the wait?"

"Ratchet, activate the ground bridge to the _Harbinger_ ," the Prime instructed.

The medic dragged his finger across the screen and pulled the lever down, ushering the humans off the platform and through to safety first. Smokescreen followed, then Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, bearing their relics.

Ratchet turned to the Prime, shuttering his optics for a moment. "I wish it didn't have to end like this." he sighed.

"Likewise, old friend." Optimus said, and pushed Nemesis Prime's chassis over the Autobot insignia on the floor of their base. They both looked up abruptly at the sound of jet engines close above. The proximity alarm went off, flashing a green light.

"Hurry!" Ratchet urged. Without a backward glance, they transformed and drove through the bridge side by side, just as the first explosion shook the base.

* * *

Ratchet pounded a servo on the console, causing its purple screens to flicker. "And I thought Earth technology was unreliable; this is ready for the scrap yard!"

"Easy, doc. Sev and Scream worked it just fine–"

"They had full knowledge of Decepticon operating systems, their secret codes, etcetera. Knowledge I do not possess."

"Past tense might be fine for Starscream," Oliver broke in, "but Seven is still alive."

"I know," Ratchet replied curtly, clearly only half-listening. "I'm making do with the available equipment. And the first thing we need to get online is the main comm, working with these Decepticon frequencies was bad enough with Starscream and Seven's personal comms frequencies and life signals, now I have an entire ship to deal with! Then there's the shielding to take down… this may take a few minutes."

"Airachnid got what she deserved," Arcee growled after a moment of silence. She had still been trapped in the Insecticon stasis pod when the Decepticon airstrike hit.

"Those pods are pretty resilient," Bulkhead frowned, "who knows? She could have survived."

"However probable, I find that circumstance unlikely due to the sheer devastation of the attack." Optimus said somberly. "No one, no matter their affiliation, state of mind, or past deeds deserves to perish, but in war, that outcome is inevitable for some."

"Even Megatron?" Smokescreen asked quietly. "The things he's done…"

"We are all well aware of." Optimus said, turning to face the white mech. "I will never defend his abominable actions. But in this war, if the only way we Autobots will be victorious is through Megatron's termination," his optics became steely and his mouth plates curved into a slight frown, "so be it."

Silence fell after that heavy statement, and everyone watched Ratchet struggle with the unfamiliar technology until he managed to pull the radio shields down and bring the comm link up again.

A voice immediately rang out, and Ratchet hurriedly adjusted the volume so it wasn't as loud. "Hello? Any–anyone there?" It was unmistakably Seven.

"Seven, do you read?" Optimus said.

Ratchet looked at the screen, "Oh, the microphone is muted, here, why would they have done that…" the medic dissolved himself into grumbles.

"Is anyone reading me?" Seven asked again, his tone so agonized and and thick with grief that Optimus stepped forwards out of instinct, looking wounded. "P-please… I can't be alone…" the Seeker started sobbing, his hitching intakes feeling like a physical blow to the team.

"Jeez," Will whispered. "What did the 'Cons do to him?"

"I fear this is our doing." the Prime stated, his voice pained.

Ratchet looked to Optimus, "Do the honors," he unmuted the mic on their end.

"Seven, do you copy?"

The Seeker cut himself off mid-sob, gasping in disbelief. "Optimus?"

"We are all safe and intact, and have relocated to the _Harbinger_. We have all the relics in our possession."

The silver mech sighed in weak relief on the other side of the comm, "Oh, thank Primus, just thank Primus… but how? I–" he sniffed, "I saw your chassis, Optimus, you couldn't have looked worse…"

"Seven, we took Nemesis Prime's chassis and left it as a decoy." he placated.

Seven moaned quietly, "I-I was the one leading the charge, Optimus. M-Megatron was going to terminate me if I didn't… and I'd rather go kamikaze then do the same to all of you!" he keened, "I nearly did…"

The Prime's expression was agonized, "Seven, it deeply grieves me to be responsible for what you have been through, but you must be strong. Rest easy with the knowledge that we are safe and unharmed, including the humans. I wish I could be there for you, but you must seize the Omega Keys from Megatron's grasp on your own. The future of Cybertron depends upon it. And I can think of no other bot whom I would rather have for the task."

The Seeker sighed again, his voice still shaky but a glimmer of hope inflected his tone, and he sounded more in control of his emotions. "I will… thank you."

"You are welcome, Seven." The Prime smiled.

* * *

I shut off my comm and shuttered my optics, relaxing against the berth, feeling dry lubricant trails on my faceplates but smiling nonetheless. They were alive, safe to boot, and that's all that mattered. Stealing the Omega Keys' coordinates could wait until morning. I was exhausted in what had to be every way possible, aching to boot, and didn't want to partake in the celebrations. High grade was certainly flowing tonight, and as far as I was concerned, I would never have another drop of it as long as I functioned.

"Ha!" I exclaimed, chuckling quietly to myself, my voice still quavering, "Imagine when Megatron finds out the Autobots are still very much online!" In a much better mood, I drifted off into the welcome folds of recharge.

* * *

Starscream was waiting for me in my dream. He looked to me, concern in his scarlet optics. "How are you holding up?"

"I've been better," I admitted.

He smirked bemusedly, "Well, haven't we all been there?"

"Only fair. Did you really mean what you said?"

He gave me a sideways glance, "I've said many things."

"Don't be like that, you know what I mean." I frowned.

His wings fluttered, "Yes, I meant it. You _will_ be fine, one way or another. You'll make do without me, hear me?"

"To quote you: I'm not deaf."

Starscream walked over, closer to me. "Listen," he said gently, "you're it. There are no more clones, and no rewinds." He poked the center of my chest plate with a talon, his tone almost chiding. "Take care of yourself."

I winced, thinking back to my ruined wings and broken arm. At least they were whole in this dream, but that would only amount to a more rude awakening. "I will. It's just been–"

"I know. But don't get yourself terminated, it's nearly happened already." he cautioned. Of course, I knew what he was referring to. Merely a couple hours ago, when I recklessly challenged Dreadwing, then crashed into the Autobot base. I knew Starscream was telling me that if I kept placing myself in unnecessary danger—if it became a pattern—eventually my luck would run out. I could see in his optics that I was right, and he knew it. "What are you waiting for? He said finally. "There won't be some…" he waved a servo to move the words along, "… magical lightning bolt to set things right."

I sighed, looking around at our surroundings. It was a park on Earth, vaguely resembling the courtyard outside Oliver and Will's school, but was much larger and completely devoid of tall, claustrophobic hedges. A stream trickled by somewhere off to my left, hidden behind well-groomed bushes. The grass had been left to grow however it pleased, crowding the cobblestone path that wove through strands of trees and other lush plant life. A few clumps of wildflowers fought to add a splash of color to the otherwise static greenery. The park was too pristine to not have been man-made, but complemented the nature around it, adding to the natural scenery instead of stealing the spotlight altogether.

"I don't know," I finally said. "Ratchet was right, after all, we are like twins." I added absentmindedly. "And right before you—you called me your brother? Did you–do you really view me that way?"

"Is your dreamscape always this beautiful?" Starscream replied, sitting on a boulder that resembled a bench like it were a throne, watching me with the ghost of a smile that was all the answer I needed. I grabbed a fragile, white blossom off of a tree and crushed it in my servo, letting the crushed and torn petals fall to the ground. "Seven," his tone had suddenly turned serious, "I meant it. But you need to stop living in the past. If you want to make a dream a reality, especially this one, you need to _stop_ dreaming."

"What the slag is that supposed to mean?" I growled. The sky seemed to turn several degrees darker and a cold wind blew through the park.

"Seven…" he said warningly. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to speak in riddles, but I'm still figuring things out, and just need a bit more time. I didn't mean to reach you yet… I-I'm sorry, for everything. I caused you so much grief, I feel it in your processor, your spark, forgive me–"

* * *

I snapped awake, feeling a fresh wave of loss crash over me. _Forgive_ me _, it's_ my _fault you're offline, Star._

* * *

"Ah, very good, Soundwave. I see you have decoded the next set of coordinates." Megatron congratulated, standing behind the communications chief as he worked at the console.

"Way to step things up, Soundwave," Knock Out congratulated, striding into the room, "I do hope this relic is something less sacred, and more profane. Like an electro-disruptor cannon; we could use one of those."

Megatron glanced at the red mech behind him, "Indeed, Knock Out." He opened a comm, "Dreadwing! Report to the bridge immediately."

"Actually, Lord Megatron," Knock Out spoke up, "please, allow me the honor of retrieving this relic for you. Seven and I can handle it."

"Do not repair his wings yet, we do not want him escaping with the Autobots."

"Understood, my liege." The red mech smirked deviously.

* * *

"Optimus, look." Ratchet said, pointing to the screen he was working at. "It appears the Decepticons have decoded another set of coordinates."

"Autobots, we must not wait." The Prime said, "Arcee, Bumblebee, remain vigilant."

"What about me?" Smokescreen protested.

"C'mon, Bee. _Destiny_ awaits." Arcee smirked, transforming, and drove through the bridge. The yellow scout transformed behind her and followed, Optimus trailing in his wake. The trio exited the ground bridge, and transformed, blasters out and at the ready. They were in Canada, on a deserted beach walking along a dock piercing a large glacial lake surrounded by a thick coniferous forest. A lone pair of icebergs studded the lake's glassy surface like worn teeth ready to tear into the sky.

[Beautiful,] Bumblebee whistled.

"You said it, Bee."

Knock Out walked out from behind a large boulder, the Omega Key resting in its open container on top of it. "Indeed, some parts of this planet are just picture-perfect, aren't they?" The red mech clucked his glossa, shaking his helm.

"Knock Out! What are you doing here?" Arcee exclaimed, sounding more shocked than angry.

He jerked his helm at the Key, "What does it look like?" He turned, looking behind him. "Sev, it's safe. You can come out now."

"Excuse me, was I hiding?" The Seeker asked innocently. But then he saw the Autobots and his optics stretched wide in disbelief.

The Prime's optics widened, then narrowed as they fell onto Seven's arm and wings. "Seven… did Megatron do this?" he asked in a tone cold with anger.

They fluttered and the Seeker looked sheepish, "Well, ah… somewhat. I was knocked out in the battle between us after you all departed, and when I came around, my arm was like this." he swung its sling for good measure.

"And your wings?" Arcee inquired. "Don't tell me you were playing with the shrink ray and fell into a blender."

Seven ignored that last remark, but Knock Out had to hold the boulder to keep from falling over laughing. "I was digging through the wreckage of our base and wasn't paying attention. But you're-you're alive!" He looked elated, like he couldn't believe his own optics.

[So… do we fight over the Key or not?] Bumblebee asked, raising his servos.

"Pff, of course not!" Knock Out exclaimed. Seven grabbed it and tossed it to Optimus, and the latter caught it with a twist of his servo.

"Will you remain with the Decepticons?" He asked, looking to the mechs.

"We don't exactly have an alternative if we are to get you the Keys," Seven shrugged. "I personally am willing to do whatever it takes. I owe it to you all, and would loathe for a debt to go unpaid."

"He's actually good on his word for once, that's a first." Arcee muttered.

The Seeker's ruined wings snapped up behind his shoulder plates, "I heard that!"

"That was the intention," she quipped.

"Now, if you will let us leave, I need to come up with a viable excuse to tell _Lord_ Megatron," Knock Out drawled.

"Must we leave so soon?" Seven whined, looking to the Prime.

"I am afraid it is for the best," Optimus said sadly. "Ratchet, we need a bridge," He requested, pressing two fingers to the comm unit on the side of his helm.

"Wait!" Seven exclaimed, reaching out with a servo. A ground bridge opened, but the Prime stopped, turning to face the Seeker. "I-I'm sorry for what I… after Starscream had—I didn't mean what I said months ago."

Optimus smiled at him sadly, "I know." He strode through the bridge after the others, the Omega Key gone with them.


	28. 28 - Keys III

XXVIII - Keys III

Megatron stalked over to Knock Out, "You say the relic was gone before you even got there?"

"Yes, my Lordship. It was out of our control–"

"Silence!" The silver mech barked. He turned on me, optics glittering with malice and he raised a fist. "And as for you…" a ping sounded out from the console Soundwave was working at. Megatron looked to see what it was: another set of decoded coordinates.

"Soundwave's on fire!" The medic exclaimed from beside me. _Saved by the bell_ , I thought.

Megatron straightened up, speaking into a comm. "Dreadwing, report to the bridge immediately." He closed the comm, "Knock Out, you are dismissed." The red mech left reluctantly.

"Master," I stepped forwards, offering him a shallow bow, "permit Knock Out and I to redeem ourselves by retrieving the relic for you. We shall not fail you again."

He turned to face me, "Yet why is it that you continue to do so? No, Dreadwing has proven himself far more capable than you and Starscream ever have been."

That stung. "Then allow me to prove my worth to you!"

"No! That is final!" He snapped. "Go, catalog the energon stores. I want every last cube accounted for, and if you dare lay a finger on any high grade…"

My ruined wings drooped and I trudged off down the corridor. I turned left and was about to enter the storage room, when something caught my optic in a seemingly bare room across the hall, its door cracked open. Interested, I walked over to investigate, entering into the room. Something long and thin rested under a fabric tarp in the shadowy corner of the room, one of the ends of it poking out. It was crimson and pointed, I couldn't tell much more from that. I bent down and flung the tarp off it, then gasped.

Valor laid on the floor, its edges glinting wickedly in the dim light.

"Megatron said you were shrapnel," I breathed, picking it up with reverence. But startlingly enough, there was an inky black sheath also under the tarp, perfectly matching the sword's hilt. Valor fit inside of it like a glove. I was confused over its existence. "Megatron hadn't made a scabbard to go with my blade," I mused, "the only reason would be that he intended to claim Valor as his own, but he already has the Dark Star Saber…" I paused in thought, clipping the scabbard to my back. The simple action was a challenge with only one servo to work with. It fit snugly in between my wings, resting over my thruster. "Unless it is no more."

I left the room and entered the energon storage vault across the hall, ignoring the Vehicon guards posted there. Every last cube was stacked into a pristine pyramid. There was nothing I could do, everything was in order. That certainly wouldn't have slipped Megatron's notice. He had only sent me here to get me out of his sights, to prevent me from following Dreadwing. I snarled quietly, spinning on my heel and left the room.

"Sir," a Vehicon guard spoke up, "pardon my asking, but what happened to your wings?"

I turned to him coldly and he looked uncomfortable, "That is none of your concern." But it was time to put these wings to the test.

I transformed and rocketed down the hall. So far so good, but with the state of them, I doubted I could keep it up for long. I pushed my engine and whipped around a corner, shooting onto the bridge. But the air whipped through the tears in my wings in an unpredictable way and I spun out, crashing to the floor in a skid. The ground bridge Dreadwing had supposedly walked through was still wide open. Without a second thought, I flung myself through it. Megatron could only watch in fury and disbelief as I vanished into it.

* * *

I unsheathed Valor from my back and swept my gaze around for any potential threats. Nothing jumped out at me, unless if one of the trees was thinking of dropping on me. The absurdity of the thought brought on a slight smirk. The ground bridge closed and I whirled around, raising my blaster, but then sagged, cursing myself for how frayed my nerves were. I began to walk through the forest, looking for Dreadwing's tracks, but had no such luck. Why waste time walking when one could fly instead? The leaves on the trees gave the appearance that the trees themselves were burning, a wide array of reds, oranges, and yellows.

I wasn't keeping track of the months with everything that had been going on of late, but had to have been mid-fall, almost November. I ruefully thought of the ground bridge remote, _my_ ground bridge remote, that I had tossed to Knock Out back on the moon. Whoops. I hoped he still had it, but I was surprised he hadn't given it back to me. Maybe he was hoping I would forget, because if that was the case, he was in for a sore disappointment.

The sound of an explosion made me jump, echoing through the valley. Not wanting to test my wings further, I raced off on pede in the direction of the blast, weaving in and out of trees. I stopped on the edge of a clearing, seeing Dreadwing facing off against Bulkhead. Neither of them could see me from my excellent vantage point, concealed by a small copse of bushes. Only the tops of my striped wings poked up.

Bulkhead onlined his comm frequency and shouted into it, "Smoke, get the relic!"

"So, Smokescreen is here?" I purred. The telltale white door wings of the white mech vanished into the forest adjacent me, and I took off in pursuit, Valor boosting my strides until I suspected I was just a blur. I had to make sure the Autobots got the third Key. I didn't think I could live with myself if a newly restored Cybertron fell under Megatron's tyrannical rule.

* * *

Smokescreen heard a twig snap behind him as he rolled a boulder of the way, trying to get to the Omega Key. He spun around, but no one was there. "Could've sworn I heard something…" he muttered to himself, then resumed pulling rocks away.

"You might make quicker work of this if you remove the boulders on the bottom first," I critiqued, startling Smokescreen. The white mech whirled around, seeing me taking leisurely strides towards him. "That way they all will fall."

"Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do with the Key? Take it back to your 'Con buddies?" He snapped, transforming out a blaster.

I glared at it, "Please, can we not be civil? And have you heard nothing from the others?"

"Megatron hasn't delivered a speech." he retorted. "Nice arm, by the way. Really suits you, maybe you should do the same with the other one."

"The _Autobots_!" I exclaimed, scowling, "Has Optimus told you nothing of my present situation? I am making sure these Omega Keys fall into your possession!"

"And look who's doing a fine job of it," he muttered.

My ruined wings fluttered pridefully, "As a matter of fact, I am."

"Then you don't happen to know where número quatro is hiding out, now do you?" He asked cooly.

"Up your aft," I snarled beneath my vocalizer. "Just grab the relic and get out, Dreadwing could be here at any moment!"

He turned away and began to pull boulders out from the base of the rock wall, "I can't just leave Bulkhead here with Dreadwing!" he said.

"Use your processor!" I slapped him, and then bent over to help clear away the rocks, "Send him a comm as soon as he can escape the battle."

"Where's the glory in that?" He huffed, rolling a final boulder away and exposing the third Omega Key's container.

"The 'glory' is that you both escape with the Key and we are one step closer to restoring Cybertron!" I snapped, my thin patience waning further.

"Hey, idle those engines, Sevvie. Bulk can afford to trade a few punches with Dreadwing. We've been doing pretty well so far," he said, popping the lid off.

"Don't call me that!" I snapped and leaned over to see, but the Omega Key wasn't inside. Only a snapped thread, connected to a detonator. Then the trees started beeping. At first, I thought my mind had joined the thread, but it soon became obvious that Smokescreen could hear it too. It was worse than I feared, there were pointed, blue and yellow bombs that matched Dreadwing's paint job stuck to every tree as far as the optic could see. And they all appeared to be just above our reach. Well, in our bipedal modes anyway.

"Scrap!" I exclaimed. Smokescreen and I exchanged a horrified look. We both were grounded with no reasonable means of escape; he could only turn into a car, and my shredded wings certainly wouldn't hold up against air currents, especially those after the blast.

"Ratchet! We need a ground bridge!" Smokescreen barked into a comm.

"On it!" The medic replied quickly, and one spiraled open a few paces away just as the ringing on the trees sped up.

"Let's go!" He urged. I didn't need to be told twice, and we dashed through the portal.

* * *

My first order of business was to sheathe Valor. The speed enhancement it bestowed upon me was rather irksome when dealing with others outside of combat. Bulkhead was already in the base, waiting for us. "Seven! What are you doing here? How've you been?!" He asked, coming over. But then the green mech saw my torn wings and my arm in a sling and his faceplates fell, "Oh…"

"We can have a reunion later, what happened to the third Omega Key?" Ratchet asked, closing the ground bridge just as the explosion began to blast through.

"A little under the wire, hm?"

The medic ignored my remark, "Am I right to assume that was the Decepticons' doing?"

Smokescreen frowned, "Yeah, Dreadwing was there. I can't believe we didn't grab the Key! Aw, I wish I could've put a few dents into him!" He threw a few punches at the air, showing it who's boss.

I rolled my optics, "The container was empty before we even arrived. Dreadwing fitted it with a trap that triggered those fragging bombs, and–"

Suddenly Oliver and Will dashed out of a hall. "Sev!" Will exclaimed, rushing over to me and hugged my leg. Oliver showed a bit more restraint and offered me an embarrassed wave. The other bots chuckled at the sight.

"What are you looking at?!" I snapped at them, a smile ghosting my features. I gently lifted Will off me and set him on the red console Ratchet was working at, wanting him to annoy the old bot. Jack, Miko, and Raf currently were absent.

[Miko's in detention, Raf is catching up on homework, and Jack is working at that burger place.] Bumblebee chirped, guessing my thoughts. Ratchet sent Will and Oliver through a ground bridge to their school, wanting them off his case.

"It seems the Decepticons have acquired the third Omega Key." Optimus rumbled.

"All evidence certainly points that way, yes." Ratchet agreed. The medic turned to me, "Get on the berth, I shall fix your wings." He pointed to it, "Chop, chop!"

"No," I said, "Megatron surely is wondering where I am at this point, and if my wings were repaired, it would be a dead giveaway to where I've been."

He huffed, "Fine, reject our hospitality. No sense in waiting: here's the door." He gestured to a new ground bridge portal.

I looked at the screen for a second before retrieving my sword, "I see you're learning Decepticon technology," I smirked.

"Yes, and it would be going much more smoothly if you or the young doctor were here to provide assistance." At that, I gave him a sardonic little wave and strode through the bridge.

* * *

I stepped out into the clearing where Bulkhead and Dreadwing had fought. It was nearly unrecognizable. The landscape that had formerly looked like it was on fire now actually was. Every last tree had been reduced to tinder, and the formerly green grass was blackened or burned away, covered in a fine layer of ash. Small fires still smoldered on a few charred logs, and ash permeated the air so thickly that I opted to disable my intakes. Cybertronians didn't need to breathe like humans did, of course, but air was a free cooling system. If we ran our fans more than normal—which I was doing right now—it cut into our energon reserves. But I had plenty of fuel to spare, and didn't want the ash getting into my systems. I needed a good wash as it was.

I sighed and opened a comm to the _Nemesis_ ' frequency, "This is Seven, requesting a ground bridge at my coordinates." One materialized a moment later. And as usual, Megatron was waiting there for me.

"You disobeyed my orders in following Dreadwing, endangering him and the relic." He growled and the bridge closed behind me. The few Vehicons that were present in the bridge watched our exchange with an eagerness about them. "Your wings are to remain as they are, and if you even breathe a word to Knock Out, I shall hear of it."

"Yes, Master."

He straightened, getting out of my faceplates, "I see you located your sword." his tone was neutral, something I didn't know how to react to.

"Yes, amazing how things can repair themselves after being blown to smithereens, wouldn't you say?" I gave him a sideways glance.

He held out his burgundy servo, "Give it to me."

I chuckled darkly, "Or what? You have your gladiatorial sword, do you not? Oh, that's right, _you cut your own arm off_ to make a sword which I shattered like glass!"

The triumphant smirk slid off his faceplates, he began to take slow, menacing strides towards me, "Then allow me to explain things in a manner which I know you'll understand–" his comm pinged. Megatron answered it angrily, "What is it, Dreadwing?" He snapped, still shooting me daggers with his optics.

"My liege, the relic is placed inside of the vault, though has no observable use which I was capable of discerning."

"I shall investigate shortly, do not bother me again."

"As you wish, my Lord. Though there is one thing I regrettably must inform you of."

"Oh?" The warlord's attention was now solely focused on the blue Seeker. I began to creep away, taking slow steps to quiet my pedfalls. "And what might that be?"

"Our sworn enemies, the Autobots, live."

I was almost out of the room when there was a loud _BOOM_. I whirled around to see that Megatron had buried a fist in the wall and roared, tugging it out with a swift jerk. He closed the comm link and looked to me once again, murder in his crimson optics. "Seven, you knew! You knew they still functioned, and yet told no one!" He lumbered closer and I backed against the wall, feeling my wings slowly flatten. "Do you even have a _notion_ of the consequences of your actions?!"

"A fairly good one," I began, playing a wild card and tried not to look intimidated but not overly cocky either. In reality, it would have been a miracle if I wasn't trembling. "you're about to beat me senseless until I fall unconscious or near that from my injuries, throw me in a cell for a night, then a few drones are going to drag me over to the med bay and waste Knock Out's precious time stitching me back together again. It's become somewhat routine, don't you think?" I replied, glaring at him. I was surprised that he had actually let me say all of that. Perhaps some small part of him enjoyed the challenge. Found it refreshing, even.

"Then it seems I have no other option," he began, sounding resigned to what he was about to say, "but to terminate you, as you are of no further use to me, or the Decepticons. I shall tear you apart with my very servos if I must!" He bellowed.

I drew Valor from its place on my back with lightning reflexes and felt the boost in speed. Not a second later, I stood behind him with my sword's tip brushing at his exposed neck cables. Every mech in the bridge watched in stunned silence now, Soundwave included.

"We both know that you will not terminate me."

"True," I agreed. And with a clean sweep of my blade, I relieved him of his burgundy arm. He grit his denta and his entire chassis tensed like a coiled spring, but he didn't make a sound or move. Wouldn't want to show weakness in front of your subordinates. " _Master_."

And on that note, I spun on my heel and left the room with a flourish. I held Valor out, partly to dispatch any Vehicons that got in my way as I raced down the corridors, partly to use that speed boost to my advantage. I felt invincible! But then I frowned to myself. I had Megatron at my mercy, but the only reason I spared him was that the Vehicons and Soundwave would terminate me. _Ever since Starscream's death_ , I reflected, _my sense of self-preservation has all but disappeared. I'm not the mech I once was._

"Attention all Decepticons!" Megatron's voice boomed from the warship's comm, sounding like his denta were gritted. "Capture Seven at all costs, and bring him to me! Alive!"

"Great," I muttered. I ran into the room where the relics were housed, and the third Omega Key greeted me from a pedestal not too far away. I sloppily sheathed Valor with my working servo and snatched the Key up, then raced out again, this time in the direction of the med bay.

I skidded inside, "Knock Out!"

The medic's helm snapped up, hearing the urgency in my tone. "What is it?"

"Give me the ground bridge remote!"

"What! Why?"

"Because we're going to escape this fragging ship, you dolt!"

"No." He said firmly, adopting a serious tone.

"What?" I asked, not understanding. "Did you not hear his announcement?! Megatron just sent the entire ship after me! I cannot afford to just dawdle around here as usual!" I waved the Key around at nothing in particular.

"I'm not saying you should," he agreed, "but I've been wondering and thinking of when this day will come, and I'm staying here. I'm more familiar with the equipment and there isn't Ratchet ordering me around, but I can act as an inside mech for the Autobots."

I tapped a talon to my chin in thought, "Yes, that is a adequate idea, I admit, but–"

"To be blunt: with Starscream gone, the 'Bots have no use for me with them. And I have a hunch that another X-'Con will only—hm, how shall I put it? 'Create dissension among the ranks?'"

"I see your point," I grumbled, "but is it really necessary?"

"Are your audials functioning? Did you hear any word of what I just said?!" The red mech exclaimed, and tossed me the ground bridge remote after retrieving it from under a stack of equipment on a table.

"Of course!" I shot back, and caught it awkwardly. "Before I depart, there is one last thing I must do."

"Getting your wings repaired, per se?"

I didn't answer and ran out of the room, pedes clacking sharply against the hard floor. I might as well have been waving a large flag while screaming "COME GET ME!" _Come get some!_ My mental shout went unanswered, but it was just as well. Dispatching drones would waste precious time I would loathe to squander.

I reached the bridge maybe five seconds later, aided by my sword. I quietly slid it into its scabbard between my wings, and snuck forward. I peeked around the corner and into the bridge, where Megatron, Dreadwing, and a pair of drones watched the last set of coordinates being decoded by Soundwave. I saw with a surge of satisfaction that the tyrant was clutching the stump where "his" arm used to be, energon sluggishly trickling through the gaps between his fingers.

"Good work, Soundwave. Now, let us see where this last relic is hiding." But the screen didn't display a set of coordinates in Cybertronian script, rather, an image. I stifled a gasp; it was of Smokescreen.

"The Autobots' newest recruit?"

"Indeed, Dreadwing," Megatron said, turning to his second, his movements stiff.

My optics widened and I bolted to the flight deck. I activated my ground bridge remote and entered the coordinates to the _Harbinger_ , where the Autobots had sought refuge.


	29. 29 - Ships

XXIX - Ships

"Where is Smokescreen?" I asked right after stepping through the bridge, swinging my helm around in search of the white mech.

"I'm right here," he said, walking out of a hallway. "Miss me that bad, huh?"

I snorted, "Hardly! Think fast!" I tossed him the Omega Key.

"You retrieved the third Key?!" Ratchet gasped.

I smirked and puffed out my chest plate. "Oh, don't act so surprised, dear doctor. The Decepticon vault had such scant security. They were no match for this–" I waved at myself with the arm currently in a sling, eliciting a few quiet chuckles and optic rolls.

"Did you uncover the location of the next relic?" Optimus pressed. "Though we all are glad to see you once again, our quest for the Omega Keys remains paramount."

My ruined wings flitted, "As I am well aware. And as for the final Key, the question isn't where, but _who_." I pointed to the white mech dramatically, "Smokescreen."

"What? But that's silly, Smoke would've known if he was packing a relic." Arcee scoffed.

A thoughtful expression dawned on Ratchet, "What if Smokescreen himself was not the holder of the final Key, but its container?"

"But that doesn't make sense," Bulkhead argued, "why send the last Key in a different 'container' from the others?"

"Perhaps my mentor, Alpha Trion, was pressed for time, as the Decepticons stormed Iacon." Optimus offered after a moment of thought.

Arcee nodded, I could tell by the look in her optics that she had a similar idea. "And what if instead of 'Cons…"

"Alpha Trion hit the kid's lights," Bulkhead finished, and jerked a thumb at Smokescreen, who stood on the edge of the room, digesting this with an eagerness I envied. "and stuffed the Key under his plating."

"There is only one way to find out," Ratchet agreed, and motioned for the white mech to come over while he activated the scanner on his arm. He swept its beam of blue light over the young bot's chest plate, and then synched the results up to the console screen so we all could see.

As it came into focus, I grinned. The last Key was unmistakable. "Whoa," Smokescreen breathed. "How do we get it out?"

"Allow me." I smirked maliciously, and made to unsheathe Valor. All free blasters were trained on me a second later. I let my servo fall to my side, "What? Have you all lost your sense of humor?!" I cried shrilly.

They transformed their blasters away. "You were with the Decepticons for months, what were we supposed to think?" Arcee snarled defensively.

I shook my helm wryly, and left to retrieve the phase shifter. When I returned, I strode over to Smokescreen. Ratchet was running another scan on his chassis, trying to find a way to get the Key out without hurting him. I shoved the medic out of the way.

"What was that for?!" he snapped. "Can't you see that I am trying to perform _sensitive_ scans!"

"You'll see."

Optimus frowned at me with disappointment, "Seven, I expect more from you."

With a swift motion, I activated the phase shifter and stuck my arm into Smokescreen's chest plate. He gasped, and I wrenched the fourth and final Omega Key out of his torso.

I handed it to Optimus, who looked stunned, along with everyone else in the room. "Will this be enough?"

The Prime took it, sweeping his azure gaze over all of us with a forced stoic expression. "Now, I believe it is paramount that I should inform you about the existence of the Omega Lock."

"What?" Almost all of us exclaimed in unison.

"It is the device the Omega Keys activate, the very one which shall restore Cybertron." He finished.

[How do you know?!] Bumblebee whirled.

Ratchet was stunned, "And you did not think to tell us?!"

Optimus lowered his helm, his servo resting on the Star Saber's hilt. "It was conveyed by Alpha Trion in the message given to me by the Star Saber, and he did not wish it so. Likewise, I did not wish to plant false hope, should the Keys have fallen into Decepticon servos."

"But Optimus…" Bulkhead trailed off.

"It doesn't matter," I interjected, taking the reins of the conversation while directing my attention to the Prime. "How do we find this… Omega Lock?"

"It is on Cybertron, in the Sea of Rust." He stated.

"You know where it is?"

He turned away, "Alpha Trion disclosed its precise location to me in his message."

"Anything else you're hiding?" Bulkhead asked pointedly.

The Prime looked at him, "No. But your question was not unfounded, and for that, I am deeply sorry. I did not want to omit information."

Watching this, I was impressed and moved by how deeply the Autobots valued honestly. So much that I silently plodded out of the room, helm hung in shame. I didn't think anyone noticed.

I located my makeshift berth from when Starscream, the two humans and I occupied this sorry excuse for a ship and sat down onto it, helm in my servo. But not a minute had elapsed before I stood and began to wander the halls, not paying attention to where I was going, wrapped up in a tangle of my thoughts. The rhythm of motion simply helped me think. What use was I, to the Autobots or Decepticons, now that all the Omega Keys had been accounted for? The war was drawing to a close, I could feel it, but I didn't feel like I had a purpose anymore. Starscream had cloned me to have another set of servos—ones he could trust—helping around the _Harbinger_. Funny how things come full circle.

Starscream was dead, and I was tarnishing his memory just by existing. I was a clone, _his_ clone, but not him. Close, but not identical, an imitation of what he used to be. And not merely because of the stripes on my wings. I, as Oliver and Will put it, was "too nice" to be a proper Decepticon, but still didn't fit in completely with the Autobots either, no matter how hard I tried. Even Megatron himself agreed. A sobering thought was that while I retained all of Starscream's thoughts and memories from prior to my cloning, my chassis was not even a year old. So much had happened that it felt much longer, but it was mid-autumn. The two humans and Starscream had cloned me early last November. And then there were the Autobots to think about. Yes, most of my time had been spent with them, but I felt like like that one piece of puzzle belonging to a different set, one that looked like it would fit, but once one pushed it into place, there was always a little gap on the edge and the colors didn't quite match up. Starscream fit better than I did, but he wasn't a copy. Slag, my name was a _number_ for crying out loud!

But I just couldn't see the point anymore. It seemed almost certain that the Autobots were going to win now; the end of the war was in sight. And that was great and all, but what next? I just wanted to give up. I had no idea of what I was to do next, and it wasn't like I could ask Starscream.

I stopped in my tracks, optics widening: I had wandered into the very lab where I was cloned. I could even see the place where I had hung as a protoform. It sent shivers down my spinal struts to think about it.

"Hey," Arcee's soft voice spoke up from behind me.

I whirled around, suddenly feeling defensive. "What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you."

I ruffled my shredded wings, "Ah… reminiscing. This ship holds a lot of memories."

She nodded, walking in and went over to where the protoforms used to hang on the wall, examining the bot-shaped cavities. "I imagine. Did you and Starscream do much here?"

"Did Prime put you up to this?" I growled. She didn't answer, glancing back at me. Primus, I would never understand femmes in all my function. I finally sighed, "We didn't do much in the way of recreation, but yes, this was our base for awhile."

She looked at me once again, a new steeliness in her gaze. "Don't waste your time sulking, or our time, for that matter. Starscream's passing was hard on all of us, even myself." She admitted. That drew me up short.

"Are you serious? You always rub in how he terminated Cliffjumper…"

The femme nodded slightly, "Cliffjumper can rest in peace, and I'm trying to let my grudge go. Besides, that was awhile ago, and it just throws salt into healing wounds if we keep bringing it up."

"Excuse me, have me we met?"

She rolled her optics, "I meant mine as well as yours."

"Are you certain Optimus didn't put you up to this? Or Ratchet, perhaps?"

"No one else was going to check on you. Did the 'Cons do anything?" The femme pried.

"Other than the usual verbal abuse and what I've told you, no. But I did lop off Megatron's new arm." I grinned.

"Keep dreaming, Sev."

I made to leave the room, "Just wait; you shall see."

"I meant what I said," she added.

I stopped, "If I can speak on behalf of my deceased double," she looked at me, confused, "then I can say that he was deeply rueful about Cliffjumper. He made many mistakes in this war… we all have." I said flatly, feeling my wings dip.

A smile quirked a corner of her mouth plates upward, "You're starting to sound a bit like Optimus."

"Never in my function," I muttered.

"That isn't a bad thing," she added.

"Did I stutter?" I challenged.

She came over to me, and got right up in the center of my field of view so I couldn't ignore her unless I left, "Look, I get it. Scream was your closest friend, Cliff was mine. But sulking and pining over him won't bring him back, and it won't help anyone."

I forced myself to meet her optics, my voice trembling. "I-I know. With everything that's been going of late—I've been kept too busy for much grief. And now… when everything slows down and the end is in sight–"

"Exactly," she interjected, startling me, and laid a servo on my shoulder plate. "We all know the war is almost over. We have all the Keys—which wouldn't have happened without you. Don't sell yourself short, Seven." Her optics glinted, "Cybertron _will_ be restored, and Megatron _will_ be vanquished. But all of us have to keep fighting to get there, hear me?" I nodded silently, optics widening. "Cliff and Scream can't have died in vain. This whole war needs an end. We're closer than ever before, but everyone needs to be a team player. I have a hunch you already knew all that, so what are you waiting for?" She stepped back, optics steely.

"Nothing… not anymore." I answered firmly.

"Then keep fighting."

My optics widened.

Bulkhead suddenly burst into the room, "Hey, you two! Break up the romance, there's a ship about to land on our front lawn!" He exclaimed between pants.

The femme and I exchanged an exasperated glance. "Lead the way," Arcee said.

I sputtered indignantly, "Do we look like we're–seriously… she is not even my friend!"

Bulkhead laughed and Arcee shook her helm. She swept an arm at me, an expression of haughty humor on her faceplates as she looked at the green mech. "Don't be jealous, Bulk. He's all yours."

I glared at her, seething and disgusted. "You–"

Bulkhead laughed, playing the part, and scooped my chassis up in a crushing embrace with a single arm. My ruined wings pressed against my back, broken arm against his front as I scrabbled furiously to get out of his hold. The green mech could most certainly feel this as he laughed again and half carried, half dragged me down the hall back to the other 'Bots. "What's the matter, Sev? Too busy sulking to hang out with the rest of us?"

"I'll hang _you_ if you don't put me down!" I snarled, trying to worm out of his grip even more.

He conceded, and promptly released me. I brushed my shoulder plates off and tried to salvage some dignity as they watched, guffawing. "By Primus, you both have something horribly wrong with your processors…" I dissolved myself into grumbles as the pair led the way outside the _Harbinger_.

* * *

We all raced outside to see the ship that was landing just outside ours. Well, if one could in any right call this derelict and dilapidated husk a even half of a "ship," which it technically was. I shielded my faceplates with my arms as it kicked up a cloud of dust, its engines screaming in my audials.

[Is it one of ours?] Bumblebee buzzed, transforming out a blaster. None of us answered, unsure. The ship was relatively small in size and not of standard Decepticon make, as I could tell. But it was unmarked, and it was only safe to be cautious. I edged backwards, shielded from sight of whoever was aboard the ship as a platform from the belly of the ship slowly lowered, hitting the ground with a clang.

A large mech stepped stood on the platform, an electric blue Autobot insignia emblazoned in the center of his chest plate. Venting a quiet sigh of relief, the few of us with blasters out transformed them away. The new mech's chassis had a similar structure to the Prime's, but his paint was almost exclusively blue, save for a few red highlights. His large shoulder plates protruded upwards, looking almost ridiculous. The mech had an authoritative air about him that I immediately disliked.

"Ultra Magnus!" Arcee exclaimed.

"Who?" I asked, confused. Starscream had heard of the Autobot commander throughout the war, but had never met him in person. Through him, me.

"He served as Optimus' SIC in the earlier centuries of the war," Bulkhead whispered to me.

The blue mech looked down at the femme condescendingly. She straightened up, "Sir."

"Very by-the-book," the green mech added in the same hushed tone.

He stepped off the platform and strode over to Optimus while the rest of us cleared the way for him. I skittered backwards, still unsure of what to make of him, and not knowing what he would make of me.

"Sir," he said to the Prime, "you're looking well."

"As are you, old friend. Have any others survived?" Optimus pried.

The blue mech's posture didn't change in the slightest, "Several escaped in the _Ark_ , scattered across galaxies. Aside from them, I do not know." He swept his gaze around to us, "Are these the extent of your forces upon this planet?"

"At present, yes." The Prime answered solemnly. "We have gained and lost valuable bots, but while our numbers are small, they are strong. We welcome you into our fold once again, Ultra Magnus." He shook the blue mech's servo, then continued with the formalities, "Unfortunately, the Decepticons inhabit this planet as well, in which we sought refuge. And there are native life forms, humans. We believe the majority of them are not ready to learn of our presence on their world, but have learned to coexist with a select few."

"Are they a threat?" Magnus inquired.

"Well, if there's lots of 'em, maybe… but not other than that." Smokescreen butted in.

The blue mech fixed him with a stern look, "Did I ask of your opinion, soldier?"

Smokescreen straightened, "No. My apologies, sir."

Ultra Magnus turned away, apparently satisfied. I was liking him less and less. Optimus looked at him, "I take it your ship is capable of interstellar travel?" He filled him in on the details pertaining to the Omega Keys and the Lock on Cybertron, and how they can restore the planet.  
Magnus looked mildly surprised, which was all the emotion he was ever going to show if I had to guess. "Indeed. But if you are planning on flying to Cybertron to restore it, that flight will take far too long."

My wings fluttered, "Not to mention that the Decepticons have access to their very own space bridge, hiding behind this planet's moon. They could reach our home planet in the blink of an optic."

The blue mech wheeled around at the sound of my voice, optics narrowing and they flitted down to the Decepticon insignia on my chest plate, partially hidden by my sling. I really needed to get that changed to an Autobot one. "Starscream. To what do we owe the pleasure?" He transformed out his blasters but didn't raise them just yet.

I laughed sharply, and his optics narrowed further. " _Sir_ , you are sorely misinformed." The others watched our exchange, looking ready to intervene. I frowned at them, "This is between us."

Smokescreen huffed, "Indulge yourself."

I opted to give mister high-and-mighty the short version. I gestured at our half of the _Harbinger_ behind me with my working servo, "Starscream stumbled upon this husk and cloned me with his energon several months ago, but only a week or two after that, we joined forces with the Autobots. Unfortunately for him," I forced my tone to become steely to hide any emotion, "he contracted a virus—long story—and died from it months ago. I, his clone, remain." I bit my lip.

He looked skeptical, but had transformed his blasters away. "An interesting tale, Decepticon. But I know your kind, and they are not ones to change their stripes so easily." His optics fell onto my banded wings for a moment, albeit they were shredded and it was hard to tell that there used to be two crimson stripes, a thicker one close to the tip, then a thinner one beside it.

I dropped all formalities, growing impatient with him. "Yes, yes, enough of that. Hello, my designation is Seven." I extended a servo.

After a second of scrutinizing it with distrustful optics, he took it with a grip so tight it was painful.

I gave him a sideways look, "I would let go or you might trigger one of my missiles." He hastily dropped my servo and I smirked, shaking my helm.

"Do not toy with me, Decepticon." He growled menacingly.

I raised my good servo mockingly, "Wouldn't dream of it, _sir_."

Ultra Magnus turned to Optimus once again, "General, does this mech always act so irresponsibly?"

Optimus looked at me shrewdly and I shrank away a bit beneath his gaze, "Seven, please, control yourself." Slightly ashamed, I allowed my ruined wings to droop and scuffed a pede in the orangish dirt.

They turned their attention away from me and began to plan of going to Cybertron and locating the Omega Lock. Ratchet excused himself from the conversation as we all walked back inside the _Harbinger_ , and the medic ushered me away from the six other Autobots.

"What?" I asked.

"Allow me to repair your wings and have a look at your arm," he said simply.

I complied, and a whiny hour or so later, my wings looked good as new. I fluttered them, ready to leave.

Seeing this, he huffed, cleaning his tools with a oily rag, "We're not done yet. Now, your arm; I'm going to need you to keep it in place while I take this off. How did it happen, exactly?" he asked while removing the strap.

I watched as the medic finished with the strap and began to make quick work of the sling. "I'm not sure," I admitted.

He stopped and met my optics, "Oh, did it just break on its own then? If you do not wish to tell me, you could have just said that." the medic resumed his work as a slightly less gentle pace.

"No, I was fighting Megatron in the desert…" I wracked my processor to remember, "our blades collided and there was an explosion. The next thing I knew, I was on the _Nemesis_ with my arm in the state it is now."

"I see." Ratchet examined it with a trained optic as I kept my gaze averted, then probed it. I jerked back instinctively, clenching my denta.

"Must you?!" I gasped.

"Yes," he said adamantly, "Seven, your arm isn't broken, just dislocated with a few minor fractures in the plating, lucky for you." I blinked, understanding, relief trickling into my frame. "I need to set it back into place, and this will hurt."

He didn't even give me a second to respond. His grip tightened and he pushed in two different directions. Pain suddenly exploded in my arm and I let out a scream, seizing up. Something seemed to snap back into place and the fiery pain abruptly abated to an ache in the joint.

Ratchet tossed the sling away, "You won't be needing this anymore."

"Thank you, good doctor." I sighed shakily, flexing my left servo.

"Please. It's the least I could do; you did ensure the retrieval of the Keys."

I puffed out my chest plate proudly and made to stand, flaring my wings out. "That I did."

He gripped my arm, "Yip, ip, ip. Idle your turbines, I need to run a final check on something." He didn't grab any devices, I noticed.

"What is it?" I asked, nervous at how vague he was being.

A smirk touched the medic's faceplates, but he still didn't touch any of the nearby tools. "Oh, I just thought your helm seemed to be larger than normal. You're cleared."

"Ha, ha."


	30. 30 - Lock and Key

XXX - Lock and Key

The others were debating how best to get to Cybertron in the near future when I walked in, Ultra Magnus exempted. I guessed that he was aboard his ship.

"… we turbocharge Maggie's ship and fly there–"

"Yes, we could _fly_ there… if we wanted to while away millennia staring at the stars." I ruffled my newly-repaired wings, cutting Smokescreen off mid-sentence.

Arcee's optics fell onto them, "Subtle. Got any better ideas?"

"As I said previously, Megatron possesses a space bridge. So, we commandeer it."

"Like the last one?" Bulkhead affirmed.

I smirked wryly, "The very same."

"But we could barely hold it the last time, and this one's much bigger by the sound of it," Arcee began, "how do you expect us to hold this one?"

"We don't need to 'hold' it, just keep it open long enough to jump through. And I know just the bot who can help us with that."

"Isn't that what 'holding' means?" Smokescreen muttered sarcastically.

[Who?]

"Knock Out. He offered to be our inside mech in the Decepticons." I stated triumphantly.

"Oh, don't you just think of everything." Bulkhead replied haughtily.

"Actually, it was his idea." I corrected. "But we can contact him, and he can get the bridge open, or force some drones to do it."

"Are you certain this will work?" Optimus asked.

"No," I admitted, "but it's the best shot we have, should we not take it?"

[I'm in,] Bumblebee chirped, looking enthusiastic.

"So am I," Arcee and Smokescreen said in unison.

"Me too," Bulkhead jumped in.

We all looked to Ratchet. "By all means, we must do whatever it takes to restore our planet." The medic said resolutely.

Optimus smiled at him, "I could not have put it better, old friend. If you will contact Knock Out…" the medic nodded and went over to the console, opening his comm frequency. The Prime turned to the rest of us, "We shall reach Megatron's space bridge in the _Iron Will_. Each of you, retrieve the relics and anything of importance you can use in battle. Unless we fail to secure the bridge, we shall not return here."

Valor was already strapped to my back, so I went and grabbed two of the Omega Keys out of storage. Bumblebee got the other pair and tucked them in a gap between his door wings and back.

Not a minute later, we all were outside the _Harbinger_ with the relics. Optimus had the Star Saber sheathed in its place on his back, as Valor was on mine. Arcee twirled the Immobilizer in a servo while wearing the Apex Amor, looking like she couldn't wait to test the pair out. Smokescreen examined the phase shifter on his wrist with reverence, activating and deactivating it while reaching his servo through his arm. Bumblebee held the Polarity Gauntlet, examining its surface while fiddline with some of its functions, slowly pulling the Immobilizer out of Arcee's grip when she wasn't looking. Bulkhead gripped the Spark Extractor as if it was a grenade lacking its pin. Ultra Magnus descended on the platform from the belly of his ship once again, holding what looked like an electric pulse cannon. We had opted to leave the energon harvester and shrink ray behind with Ratchet, because the three of them would be next to useless in battle.

"Autobots," Optimus declared, "our final hour has arrived."

I huffed, wings fluttering, "Well, when you put it like that…"

Ultra Magnus picked it up from there, frowning at me, "Do not show disrespect to your general, soldier."

My wings flared up, but Optimus, sensing that I was about to lash out, seized control of the conversation. "Ultra Magnus, we can excuse Seven. We all must work efficiently as a team in order to defeat the Decepticons, once and for all."

"And away we go," I muttered. We all clambered into the hold, and it was a tight squeeze indeed. The ship took off, Ultra Magnus at the controls, and we waved farewell to Ratchet, who remained at the _Harbinger_. He wasn't a warrior, and even he agreed that he would only get in the way in the thick of things on Cybertron. My tank suddenly dropped into my pedes as the thought finally hit me full-force. _We're going home, back to Cybertron._

"I've never been to Cybertron," I suddenly blurted out, my wings pricking up. "I'm not even a year old and I've never been to Cybertron."

A few of the others looked briefly confused, but their faceplates cleared almost instantly. "You won't like the state it's in." Bulkhead said darkly.

"Do you forget that I possess all of Starscream's memories preceding my cloning? I remember what it was like, but never have exactly been there." I corrected awkwardly.

"Right…" the green mech said.

"What's it like?" Smokescreen asked, fingering the phase shifter.

"What, Cybertron, or having memories that are not my own?"

"The last one."

I passed one of the Omega Keys off to Bumblebee and he graciously accepted it. Smokescreen looked expectantly at me.

"They feel like they're my own; the line between Starscream and I was indistinct when he was functioning, still is…" I absentmindedly traced an outline on my thigh plating with the tip of a talon, collecting my thoughts before continuing, "but it usually doesn't bother me. If you were asking if it is confusing, then my answer would be yes, but only when I think on it."

The white mech took that in silence.

[Are we nearly there?] Bumblebee beeped, looking to the blue mech at the ship's controls.

"Nearly," Ultra Magnus assured him. Through the cockpit's thick glass, the _Nemesis_ drifted into view.

I stepped forwards, "Allow me to scope things out, after all, I do transform into a jet–with an exceptional sense of style, I might add." I smirked, looking to the Prime for approval.

"No, remain here." Ultra Magnus commanded, a note of mistrust still barbing his tone.

Optimus looked at me sympathetically, "You may scout out the _Nemesis_ , as long as you return as soon as possible with as much information as you can gather. That is, if the space bridge does not open before then."

I beamed at the Prime and shouldered my way out of the group of bots, tucking my wings against my back to squeeze between them. Ultra Magnus reluctantly opened the hatch in the back, and I jumped out. I shuttered my optics and fell in my bot mode for a few beautiful seconds, then transformed and looped upwards. I shot past the _Iron Will_ ―Magnus' ship―and flew beneath the Decepticon warship, weaving in and out of its offline cannons and the cameras' blind spots.

I could just feel the blue mech's glare on my tail fins. "Knock Out, ready that space bridge," I commed.

He replied a second later with a crackle of static, "Way ahead of you." Far ahead of me—hidden in part by the planet's moon—the space bridge flashed to life, more than large enough to admit our ship plus ten of the _Nemesis_.

"Go!" I barked into a comm on all the Autobots' frequencies, save for Ultra Magnus'. I didn't have his.

The ship swerved behind me, shooting over to the bridge behind the Moon. But the _Nemesis_ had started to move as well, engines humming to life. Megatron was surely flying into a rage, seeing his enemies about to make it to Cybertron. He would pursue us, no doubt about it. I was happy I wasn't up there right now, it was sure to be chaos.

I blasted my thruster and shot after our ship, skimming just below Mach one. I shot past the ship, seeing a few stunned, upturned faceplates. I transformed and landed on the edge of the space bridge's frame, waving them on with my Key. They flew through the space bridge and I followed, transforming once again. The _Nemesis_ was right behind me, and I could practically feel Megatron's scarlet optics boring into me with a newfound hatred. Just before the vortex enveloped me, I wondered if Knock Out had replaced his arm yet.

* * *

Cybertron was worse than I remembered. I watched the deteriorating landscape blur by beneath me as I followed the Autobots' ship. Dull, rusty buildings squatted far beneath me, crumbling into the streets. Taller, spindly skyscrapers with sharp spires protruded like splinters in the ragged landscape, some looking like one good gust would finish them.

We finally landed at a strange object in the middle of the Sea of Rust. Everyone exited the ship, save for Ultra Magnus, who remained inside in case we needed to make a quick escape. Like everything there, it was unremarkable, large, blocky object. "Our head start won't last long," Arcee said, walking over to inspect it.

"Are you sure this is the right spot?" Smokescreen asked dubiously, "I mean," he gestured at it, "it's not much." He was right, the object was small, maybe half the height of Optimus, the same width.

Optimus swept some grit off of the top of the object, revealing the Autobot insignia, engraved into the metal.

"This is the place," Bulkhead confirmed, his tone sounding grim.

The Prime touched two fingers to the comm unit on the side of his helm, "Ratchet, we have located the Omega Lock."

The medic sighed in relief, "At last."

Optimus hung up, facing us somberly. "According to Alpha Trion, the Omega Lock is a conduit to the very Allspark itself."

[I shouldn't have an honor like this…] Bumblebee chirped, pulling the two Keys out of the plating between his door wings with the servo that wasn't holding the third, having set the Polarity Gauntlet down briefly.

"Nor should I." I said, offering it up to the Prime.

All the others were surprised I said that, to say the least. Optimus spoke up again, "Keep it, Seven. You have earned it."

I held it higher, "I insist." But then the Key started glowing with an amber light and began to shake in my grasp. Bumblebee, hardly able to manage three of them, passed two off, one to Bulkhead, and the other to Arcee, because they were nearest him. Immediately, the Lock started to glow and a loud, bass rumble filled the air. The _Nemesis_ floated over our helms, defying gravity, suddenly blocking the starlight from above.

Forgetting that I had offered the Key to the Prime in the first place, my servo fell to my side as we watched four pillars ascent from the rusty ground around us in slack-jawed wonder.

"Not much, heh…" I trailed off, too awed to properly mock Smokescreen. The pillars continued to rise, and even with my respectable twenty-five foot stature, I was feeling rather small indeed.

The pillars' ascent ceased, and then a circular ring began to slide out from the four. I stared up through the center of it, and the Key I held began to shake more violently. I hurriedly passed it off to Optimus, who took it out of reflex. The four bots holding the Omega Keys stepped forwards and were about to slide them into the Omega Lock when Megatron himself dropped out of the sky, followed by Soundwave and swarms of drones and Insecticons.

He transformed and landed heavily, striding over to us just as the four were about to insert the Keys into their places. The warlord cracked his neck cables from side to side, already powering up his fusion cannon. The four bots hurriedly shoved the Keys into their slots, then drew their own weapons, facing the warlord.

"Megatron," Optimus growled.

The tyrant spread his servos, a malicious sneer on his faceplates. "Sorry to disappoint. Cybertron shall have its rightful ruler, this I vow."

"Good luck with that," I sneered right back, itching to whip out Valor. "How is your arm?"

"Ah, better than yours will be, my dear Seven." He raised his sword, baring his sharp denta in a twisted grin.

Smokescreen grinned, looking more than ready to fight and activated the phase shifter. "Boy, we sure are going to be sore tomorrow!"

With a roar, both sides surged towards each other. I saw Ultra Magnus running over to us from his ship, joining the fray. We Autobots were vastly outnumbered, but our toys made up for it. Megatron and Optimus sought each other out in the center of the raging battle, viciously, deftly trying to get the upper hand by dealing crushing blows and sweeps of their swords. It was clear that Megatron's gladiatorial blade was far from being the Star Saber's equal, and he knew it too, judging by the deep snarl fixed into his faceplates.

I drew my own and began cutting down Vehicons mixed with the occasional Insecticon while trying to keep an optic on the others. Fortunately for us, we had all refueled at the _Harbinger_ before setting out, we needed plenty of energy and stamina. I quickly parted an Insecticon's helm from the rest of its chassis with a sweep of Valor, but every time I slew one of the troops, three more seemed to take their place. In the action, I was being swept away from the others in the staggering flow of chassis. I leapt upwards and blasted my thruster, boosting my leap as I soared over the helms of the drones and Insecticons while incapacitating as many of them as I could with my scarlet blade.

I landed hard but rolled and came up fast, narrowly dodging a swipe from Arcee, encased in the Apex Armor and looking quite formidable, holding the Immobilizer in her other servo. "Watch it!" She exclaimed, and forged off in the opposite direction, stepping on adversaries that couldn't dive out of the way fast enough. I let out a sigh of relief I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and sprang to my pedes, but cringed at the sickening crunches of metal coming from beneath the armor's pedes. But I couldn't dwell on it, drones were converging on me again. I twirled Valor around in a series of difficult, flashy maneuvers, telling them to _back off_.

They hesitated for a moment and Bumblebee materialized next to me, baring the Polarity Gauntlet. He activated it and held it up high, and all the Decepticon troops flew into the air. He pressed a button on the side of the amber hologram erected around his forearm, and they were shot far off into the distance as if from a cannon. I fired one of my precious missiles into the fray, felling almost a dozen. I grinned, feeling energon surging through my veins while my spark tried to beat its way out of my chest. I was loving this, the rest of the universe was washed-out and dreary compared to my heightened senses in the madness of battle. All my systems were in overdrive.

I cut into their ranks again, barely taking time to distinguish friend from foe until Ultra Magnus deflected Valor on the barrel of his electric rifle. My wings flared up in surprise and I shouted "Sorry!" at him before diving back in. At least, I tried to. An Insecticon took advantage of my momentary distraction and landed a heavy punch on my side. I staggered and Valor fell out of my grasp, more from surprise than pain. Ignoring my sword, I lunged at him viciously and sunk my talons into his chest plate, picturing CYLAS' mangled chassis in his place. I retrieved Valor and watched the battle, panting. Arcee, still in the Apex Armor, shot droves of Decepticon troops with the Immobilizer, who were so tightly packed it was impossible to miss. Bumblebee dispatched troops quickly as well with the help of the Polarity Gauntlet. _Magnetics are a force to be reckoned with_ , I thought as he used the device to squeeze a horde of Vehicons together, then blasted them apart. I grinned savagely as they ripped through their own ranks. Smokescreen was turning the phase shifter on and off, sliding through the ground and surprising drones and Insecticons alike. Ultra Magnus was duking it out with Soundwave, an unlikely pair if I ever saw one. Optimus and Megatron were still fighting, of course, each sporting a few injuries, but were very evenly matched an a way that almost was creepy. It was like they knew exactly what the other was going to do well before they did it.

High above us in the inside of the metal circle the Omega Lock had formed, there was a strange, electric blue liquid. I would've thought it was energon if it wasn't giving off a profuse amount of bright light, and the fact that it was floating on its own was a pretty good indicator too. It cast rippling shadows down onto the bots, giving the appearance that we were fighting in a massive undersea room with a glass roof. At night to boot, thanks to the 'Con warship above us.

I was about to launch back into the chaotic sea of chassis, ignoring my exhaustion, when Bulkhead surfaced on the other side of the battle. He held the Spark Extractor high above his helm. Not many seemed to notice. Optimus glanced in his direction, perhaps seeing a glimmer of silver in the corner of his vision.

"MOVE!" the green mech boomed, waving a servo at us to get out of the way. The other Autobots heard him, then saw what he was about to do. Unfortunately, so did the majority of the Decepticons. There was a lull in the battle for a second, and then he activated the Spark Extractor, "doomsday device," hurling it into the air.


	31. 31 - The Eleventh Hour

XXXI - The Eleventh Hour

We all cleared the Spark Extractor's Invisible radius before it detonated, but many of Megatron's troops were not as fortunate. Horrified, I watched, waiting in horror for something gruesome. Droves of the Vehicons and a few Insecticons intermixed collapsed simultaneously, as if it had been choreographed. I stared at their chassis numbly, not really registering what had just happened. Megatron hurled a shard of metal he got from somewhere, _or some_ one _,_ I thought darkly as it pierced the Spark Extractor.

Bulkhead whooped, seeing only a handful of Decepticons remaining, Megatron and Soundwave among them. We converged on them all, weapons raised.

I strode towards the larger silver mech and a couple others shuffled out of the way to admit me. I raised Valor, meeting the warlord's optics. "Game over, Megatron. Cybertron is ours! You LOST!" I cheered and thrust my sword into the air, an action so uncharacteristic of me that I got the sense the others had stopped to watch out of my sight. I couldn't help myself, I was practically drowning in the euphoria.

He watched me, bemused. "On the contrary, my dear Seven. Dreadwing!" Immediately, four cables dropped from the bottom of the _Nemesis_ and attached themselves to the top of the Omega Lock. My tank sunk as I watched the ship pull upwards and a loud shriek emanated from the metal, whether coming from the _Nemesis_ or the Lock, I couldn't tell at first. But finally, it gave and the circular top of it came free, the strange blue liquid in its hollow center still swirling and giving off that eerie light. The remaining Decepticons transformed and flew up to their ship, which, incredibly, began to ascend with its new load. And slowly, the _Nemesis_ began to turn, facing a massive space bridge that had just opened.

Megatron's magnified voice called down to us, triumphant laughter filling his tone. I could just make out his shadowy form on the prow of his warship. "Autobots, the dawning of a new age is upon us: the Age of the Decepticons! You see, why rule only one world, when I can rule two?" I sheathed Valor into its place on my back and glared up at him, albeit there was no way he could make out my expression from that distance.

The Omega Lock's glow increased in intensity, and shot a massive beam of blue energy straight into the heart of Cybertron, into the Well of Allsparks and then Primus himself.

The spectacle abruptly ended, and still carrying the Lock, the _Nemesis_ completed its turn and flew through the bridge, vanishing in a flash of white light. I wanted to impale myself on Valor.

"We're doomed," Smokescreen stated bluntly.

"Keep thinking like that, soldier, and we shall be." Ultra Magnus said gravely.

Optimus turned to the rest of us slowly, sheathing the Star Saber to his back. He was leaking energon from a few wounds, none of which looked serious, least of all mortal.

"Upon this day, we Autobots face our darkest hour. Earth is in grave peril, and unless we stop the Decepticons, Cybertron could remain a graveyard and Earth could be destroyed. We must not tarry."

* * *

One short trip in Magnus' ship through a space bridge later, courtesy of Knock Out (I assumed Megatron was too busy trying to conquer Earth to notice the space bridge had been opened), we arrived back at our sad half of the _Harbinger_. Things were looking bleak indeed.

"Why are we still here?" I snapped, "Megatron is undoubtedly doing something atrocious to this planet as we sulk here! Aren't we going to stop him?!"

"You tell me," Smokescreen growled, twisting the phase shifter's face so it deactivated. "You're the high-and-mighty Seven, who single-handedly made sure that the Keys fell into our servos, did a pretty bang-up job of it too! And look," he waved a servo, "it didn't matter, did it? The 'Cons have won!"

I was about to retort but Bulkhead beat me to it, " _Smoke_ , I never thought you the type to give up so easily." he scoffed.

Ratchet stepped in, "Please! You three are acting like sparklings! Will bickering really get us any closer to defeating Megatron and his goons?"

Ultra Magnus seized the opportunity, "The doctor is correct. However, we lack ready means of locating the _Nemesis_."

A familiar mech suddenly stepped out of a ground bridge, drawing all of us up short. "I believe I can help with that," Knock Out smirked.

I gaped at him, "You're a lifesaver."

"I know." he preened, flashing me a smile.

* * *

My school gets out at three in the afternoon, so it was understandable that there was a lot of confusion when the bells began to ring shrilly at noon.

"I'm telling you, I used to play the _viola_ , not violin–" Will broke off as the bells began to ring, ceasing to gesture with his sandwich. Kids at other tables had begun to rise, clutching half-eaten food with disinterest, whispers whipping around like it was a fire drill, an actual fire, an earthquake, I even heard one kid mutter something like "we're all targets."

Tony gave me a confused look from across the lunch table, and the three of us rose in unison, our lunch trays forgotten. Teachers had begun to usher students to the gym urgently, tossing whispered comments around like "giant spaceship," and "they're saying it's Japanese," and "looks alien to me."

Will and I froze. "The _Nemesis_ ," I mouthed at him, and he nodded, clearly sharing my thoughts. Tony still looked confused and nervous. "C'mon!" I said, and led the three of us to the fringes of the crowd, out of sight of the teachers. I furtively glanced around for a door, and found one a few meters on the wall to my left. We rushed towards it and flung it open, jogging outside and praying that no teacher or snitch had seen us. Once we were out of the building, the heavy door slammed shut behind us.

I looked up and stifled a gasp. The thunderheads rolling in weren't terrifying, but the _Nemesis_ was. Sure enough, the Decepticon warship hovered in the air not too far above us, something circular with a glowing blue liquid in the middle hung beneath the bottom of the ship. If I squinted, I thought I could see Megatron standing at the prow of the ship, but it was without any certainty. Suddenly, the strange liquid began swirling faster and faster, and a blue laser shot out from the side of it, a beam of pure energy. We all instinctively flinched. It met the landscape maybe a half mile away.

"What is going on!?" Tony shouted over the noise once he had found his voice. I looked over at my friends, who both had gone very white.

I pulled out my cell phone from my pants' pocket and fumbled with the dial buttons, trying to reach the _Harbinger_ 's comm link. After the third ring, Ratchet answered. "What is it, Oliver? We are right in the middle of things over here!"

I sensed he was about to hang up on me and shouted "Wait! This is worth your time, I promise!" I received an expectant silence in answer, so I continued. "The 'Con warship is right above my school, with some weird, circular device hanging beneath it," I glanced upwards, feeling chills go down my spine. "jeez, the thing is freakin' huge!"

"What are your coordinates?" He snapped urgently.

"I–I don't know," I looked to my incredulous friends, "We're at my school, its a few miles southeast of my house, just look it up…" I trailed off as the medic dissolved himself into grumbles. "Where are the others? I was expecting Optimus."

He hung up.

Will threw his hands up into the air, "Oh, thank you Ratchet! You–" he cut himself off as a ground bridge opened in front of us.

Seven dashed out first, his outline slightly blurred, clutching a red, wicked-looking sword. I rubbed my eyes, but he remained the same. He seemed to move faster than what looked possible, and wasn't happy. Optimus came out behind him, holding the Star Saber. He was followed by Arcee, who carried the Apex Armor, then Bulkhead, empty-handed, Bumblebee wearing the Polarity Gauntlet, Smokescreen sporting the phase shifter, Knock Out, surprisingly, and a blue mech whom I had never seen before, holding a massive rifle of Cybertronian make.

"Sev!" Will cried, racing over to him. The Seeker looked down with a haunted expression as if in a daze, and sheathed his sword. His outline returned to normal, but his expression remained the same. Will, seeing this, slowly backed off.

"What happened, Optimus?" I asked, striding over to the Prime, who looked a bit banged up, as did everyone else. "Was there a fight?"

"What does it look like?" Knock Out huffed. "I wish I were there…"

"Be glad you weren't." Seven interjected, looking as though he had mentally shook himself.

Once Tony had picked his jaw up off the ground, he half walked, half dragged his feet over to the 'Bots. "Are you real? Please tell me I'm not dreaming, 'cause I don't want to wake up. Ever."

Will grabbed a dazed Tony by his sleeves and tugged him back inside the high school, promising him he'd explain everything. My friend was back beside me a moment later.

"What happened?" I asked again.

"That is a story for another time," the blue mech I didn't recognize stated gruffly.

"We are on a tight schedule, so to speak…" Bulkhead trailed off, looking to the Prime.

"How are we going to get up there?" Smokescreen piped up, "It's not like we can fly."

Seven rolled his optics, striped wings fluttering and he cleared his throat—(do they have throats?)—loudly.

"Right." The white mech corrected, "But one bot isn't going to be able to do anything against the 'Con army."

"Smoke is right," Arcee cut in, "we need a new bridge." The Decepticon warship began to ascend quite rapidly into the sky until it became a black smudge against the cloudy sky. It still wasn't raining.

Bumblebee chirped something, looking irritated.

Optimus looked at the yellow scout, "The _Nemesis_ is still within range of a ground bridge, Bumblebee." They all looked relieved.

"Wait, what about us? Can we help? I could fight off 'Cons with the Apex Armor…" Will trailed off.

The Prime looked down at him sternly, "I am afraid that is out of the question. We will not put you at unnecessary risk."

"Hey, this is our planet Megatron's shooting a laser at!" I protested snappishly.

Seven glared at us, "The best thing you two can do right now is make sure you stay safe. We'll let you know when the battle's over." And with that, he whipped out a device I instantly recognized: the ground bridge remote.

"Why do you keep hiding that?" Arcee bristled.

"It's useful," he shot back. The Seeker activated it, and Optimus led the charge through, then the blue mech, and everyone else. Suddenly, Will and I were alone.

"Good luck," I muttered into thin air.

* * *

I cautiously stepped out of my ground bridge, onto the edge of the circular Omega Lock. The cables supporting it were so thick that I doubted if even the Star Saber could cut through them. Like either side wanted to destroy the Lock by sending it crashing into the Earth far below us. Megatron landed in front of Optimus, the blue glow of the strange liquid in the Omega Lock giving his silver paint a garish hue. I assumed that mine looked similar.

"Megatron," Optimus rumbled, "stand down."

The warlord tutted, and raised his fist into the air. The blue laser shooting out of the Lock immediately shut off, and Dreadwing and Soundwave, along with a horde of drones leapt from the belly of the _Nemesis_ to join us.

"May the rightful leader of Cybertron be the last mech standing," Megatron snarled.

Optimus held his sword up as well, mirroring the silver mech's stance. "I am but a soldier, Megatron. And you are a prisoner of your own twisted delusions!"

The warlord laughed coldly, "Time will tell, Optimus."

The Prime stepped forwards and swung his sword, trying to get under the warlord's guard. But Megatron sidestepped, dodging it with ease as his gladiatorial sword slid out. The fight resumed from there and I unsheathed Valor, my sights set on Dreadwing. Time skipped a step and slowed around me. I grinned maliciously, loving the sensation as much as the first time. More, maybe. The blue Seeker had other ideas, however, and charged Bumblebee with his own silver, unremarkable blade. The scout disengaged from a Vehicon and turned his blasters on Dreadwing, forcing the other Seeker to seek shelter from the onslaught of plasma. Arcee and Ultra Magnus were cutting through the Decepticon troops almost with ease. Knock Out and Bumblebee were now focusing their attention on Dreadwing, the blue Seeker firing occasional bolts of red plasma at them with his minigun. Soundwave and Bulkhead were also dancing around each other, trying to land deadly blows, an unlikely pair if I ever saw one.

"Of course, they leave me to the drones again." I grumbled, and began dispatching them alongside Arcee and Magnus. A few minutes later, the few troops left were retreating, and the three Decepticons left were fighting with a new fervor. Megatron managed to fend off Ultra Magnus and Optimus. I grinned, watching the battle with a new hunger; it was just a matter of time before the warlord fell.

I swept Valor around at Soundwave, who had come too close for comfort. He activated the resonance blaster attached to his wrist and I was blasted with a sound wave so shrill that I felt my audials short out, before reactivating with a loud ringing. I shook my helm, feeling dizzy. The blue mech advanced, the same impassive visor glaring at me. He blasted me with it again, and this time I fell. On the edge of my vision, I saw Ultra Magnus' sprawled chassis near Megatron's pedes with a large dent in his helm, apparently unconscious. _Serves him right_ , I thought.

I scrambled to my pedes again and transformed my left servo into a blaster, firing a few shots at the blue mech while clutching Valor like a life preserver to enhance my speed, dancing out of his reach each time he drew close.

I suddenly found myself pinned between Dreadwing and Soundwave. The two blue mechs closed in on me slowly, with malicious optics in Dreadwing's case, knowing I was cornered. But they took too long. Bumblebee sprang to my aid just as Dreadwing had raised his sword, blocking it on the edge of the Polarity Gauntlet.

"Thanks!" I gasped, ducking away from the two. Behind the scout, Megatron shoved the tip of his silver blade through one of the gaps in the center of the Star Saber. He clapped his servos over the flat of the Prime's blade, and the sword was wrenched from Optimus' grasp.

Bumblebee saw this and made to retrieve the Star Saber for the Prime, as it was out of his reach. With a swift thrust, Megatron shoved his sword through the center of Bumblebee's unprotected back plating, right between his door wings. He crumpled, sliding off the blade's tip with a smear of energon and without a sound.

"NO!" Arcee and Bulkhead shouted, charging towards him. But Megatron pulled his chassis up by a pede as the scout's large blue optics turned black.

My vision blurred, maybe from lubricant, but most certainly from a cold fury. The yellow mech didn't deserve to die, and he was still so young. I screeched and slashed Valor at Dreadwing in a cruel, crimson arc, cutting deep into his side. Soundwave hit me with another pulse from the resonance blaster, but I hardly felt it. I watched, wings low, trembling with rage and grief as Megatron hauled the scout's offlined chassis up, using him as a shield from the rain of blue blaster fire.

I made me so sick to watch that I gagged, but nothing came up. Bumblebee's chassis was unrecognizable, I wouldn't begin to describe it. Megatron, deeming his "shield" useless, tossed him into the swirling, electric blue liquid of the Omega Lock. I don't know what disjointed lines of programming propelled me, but I lunged forwards, reaching for his servo. It was missing the middle two fingers. But I had leaned too far, and with a splash, I landed in the liquid, clutching his dead servo like it was life itself.

I opened my optics, not registering I had shut them in the first place. The liquid burned every inch of my chassis and wings. I screamed, feeling the tight grip of panic closing around my spark, knowing with every circuit in my chassis that I was dying too, and accidentally swallowed a large amount of the stuff.

Arcee, Bulkhead, and Knock Out's distorted figures stood above me, looking much farther away than they actually were. At least, I assumed the figure in the Apex Armor was Arcee. I thrashed my limbs and flapped my wings, trying to swim out of the liquid, but it was so thick that I could barely move. The burning sensation seeped down my throat and I gasped, swallowing more of the stuff. The last thing I saw was Arcee diving in after me, arm outstretched.

* * *

My optics onlined and I coughed up a sizable amount of whatever that liquid was. Bulkhead pulled me to my pedes, but I didn't feel weak like I had expected. Every scrape and dent was gone from my chassis, I noted with amazement, gawking at myself. Valor was, miraculously, sheathed in its scabbard in between my wings. Sure, I still was weary, but my chassis had never felt this good in all of my or Starscream's memories.

But the real shock came when Knock Out exclaimed "Look!" and pointed to the other side of the ring. Bumblebee was on his pedes, glowering at Megatron. His entire chassis looked good as new. Better, even, just like mine.

"Megatron!" He shouted. _He has a voice._ I thought I might've fainted for a split second; the world flickered black around me and I caught myself tipping over.

Rain continued to drum down, and my thoughts immediately focused back to Bumblebee. Or at least, what happened to he and I. Ideas started going off like explosions in my helm, shattering my thoughts each time. Raw cyber-matter was the only explanation; that was the only thing that could have repaired our chassis that quickly and efficiently, so "magically" that it had quite literally resurrected the scout, and restored his vocalizer. _That's how it would restore Cybertron_ , I realized. Everyone else looked just as shocked as I felt.

But then my thoughts did a rapid somersault and I gasped, almost losing my balance as I ran away from the battle. My pedes thudded to the rhythm of the rain: in an erratic, sloppy way. My thoughts were so unclear, still going off like miniature explosions in my helm that I could barely understand them, staggering around like I was extremely overcharged and grinning like a fool. A memory spontaneously surfaced of when I actually was, in Megatron's failed interrogation.

A balloon of hope was rapidly inflating under my chest plate, so quickly I felt lightheaded. What if… what if what happened to Bumblebee could happen to Starscream? Could we have him back? Could I really…?

 _Starscream._

I threw myself off the Omega Lock, grinning like I'd lost my mind.


	32. 32 - Waves

XXXII - Waves

"Seven!" Smokescreen's shout went unanswered as I dove off the Omega Lock. I ignored him and transformed, relishing the sensation of my chassis folding into a jet. A loud _BOOM_ announced the sound barrier's submission, followed by a flash of white as I jetted through a vapor cone. I blasted my thruster so much and pushed my engine to the point where I was sure mechanisms were going to fail. Hopefully not critical ones. I poured on speed until I crested above Mach three—faster than I should have been able to go in my jet mode—and shot away, the _Nemesis_ already out of sight. Of course it was. I could hardly see in any direction, thanks to the torrential rain. But I knew that I was closing in on the Autobot base. The one that I had blown to smithereens.

Five minutes later, the rain had almost completely dissipated and the ruins of our base came into view. My turbine was smoking, a sure sign that my engine was damaged. Mach three was something I shouldn't have been capable of, and I was paying for it. I turned my internal fans on and landed heavily at the base of the ruins of our old base, staggering. My legs almost gave out beneath me.

"Why did… I bother… flying… here?" I snapped to myself between pants, remembering the ground bridge remote tucked in a gap between my thigh plating. "Ah, well, at least I won't have to fly him back…"

I plodded over to the mound of dirt with stiff strides, hesitant and nervous. What would his chassis look like? But I steeled my nerves and kicked the headstone away, not even reading the three words I had etched into it months ago. It certainly hadn't felt all that long.

I scraped dirt away, forcing myself to go faster and faster with thoughts that the Lock could have been deactivated or destroyed, or Megatron could've won the battle…

My train of thought was brought to a screeching halt as I hit something soft. The quilt, I realized, feeling stupid. I slowly folded a tattered corner of it back and was met with his faceplates. Averting my gaze, I quickly uncovered the rest of his chassis. It wasn't pretty. Every inch was caked with rust from overly friendly rainwater that had seeped into the ground, and grit from being buried, but that was the least of it. The virus—that's what I guessed it was—had ravaged his chassis after death. But I couldn't tear my optics away. His frame was emaciated and the metal brittle, so much so that when I dragged his chassis out of the dirt, bits of it flaked away in my grasp and left a streak of silver in the path he had made. His joints and optics were clotted with dried earth. He couldn't have looked more dead if he tried. It was too much. Revolted, I turned away and dry heaved.

I took a few deep intakes and clenched my denta, trying to force my roiling tanks to rest. I heaved him up under his arms and fumbled with the ground bridge remote with one servo. I was exhausted from flying that fast and wasn't fond of touching a corpse, no exceptions to whom it had been.

I finally got the portal open to the same coordinates I had used previously and dragged him through. Once I emerged on the circular ring of the Omega Lock, I quickly closed it and dropped my emaciated twin. I was relieved to see that the cyber-matter was still there, glowing and spinning about, shimmery bubbles occasionally bursting on the surface. We were far above the planet now; I could see its curvature from where I stood, probably within the stratosphere.

No one on either side appeared to have noticed my less-than-exciting entrance, but it was just as well. They were all battling on the other side of the ring, Bumblebee among them. My spark rose, seeing the scout fight.

Puffing, I dragged Starscream over to the edge of the cyber-matter across the slick metal. "This is on you," I whispered, leaning in close to his faceplates, his dark optics. "wherever you are, keep fighting." But as I frowned into those orbs smeared with grit, the ballooning hope in my chest suddenly got a puncture. My double had passed on far longer ago than Bumblebee, could the Lock even restore his chassis? Or worse yet, his spark? We had all seen the latter fly off, or perhaps it was a figment of my grief-stricken imagination at the time. No one had spoken of it ever again. A tremor ran through my frame and I tried to force myself to believe the Lock would work, that it had to. That the universe owed it to us all.

With a kick, I shoved him in. The cyber-matter splashed and frothed as he sank in slow motion, the strange liquid's thickness and his large wings slowing him. The bubbles all flitted away at once, as if they had other matters to attend to. My intakes were snatched right out of my throat. His chassis was restored—so much so that it would've made Knock Out squeal and lock him in a glass case. My spark seemed to beat faster and I leaned over as far as I dared, waiting for his optics to online.

But my twin's chest plate remained immobile, and his chassis slipped out of the cyber-matter in a final fall to Earth. Flashes of lightning lit up the thunderheads far below, silhouetting him as he shrunk to a pinprick of shadow against a smear of grey.

I made a split-second decision and dove after him, abandoning the battle behind me.

* * *

Starscream's chassis gathered speed as it streaked through several cloud layers towards the planet below. A teeth-jarring crack of thunder split the air not too far off as the clouds opened. In seconds, his chassis was drenched: a sopping, silvery blur that was near-impossible to pick out from the surrounding clouds.

A wiry bolt of lightning met the Seeker without warning, and the massive clap of thunder that followed nearly blew out his audials. Having nowhere else to go, tremendous amounts of raw electricity coursed through his systems, the rest through his armor and the water coating that. The Seeker's chassis reflexively seized up, optics flickering on then back off an instant later.

High above in his jet mode, Seven screamed down towards his double. He would not allow the Seeker to die a second time, not if he could help it. Starscream fell out of sight, through a thick, lighter colored layer of clouds.

Seven pushed his engine, feeling it overheat so badly that he was sure it was melting into his struts. He screamed—though whether it was from pain or fervor, he wasn't sure—spearing the clouds. The jet transformed, now in freefall, watching as Starscream crash-landed into an arctic lake with a massive splash and plume of steam.

"STARSCREAM!" his clone shouted, diving in after him. The icy water was so cold, so Primus awful cold, but he shook his helm and kicked deeper once he'd recovered from the shock. Starscream was still sinking.

With a quick, distracted jab of his thoughts, Seven shut off all his internal fans and stilled his coolant. He needed all the heat he could get down here. The Seeker flapped his wings and strained down, reaching for Starscream's fingers. He clasped onto his double's wrist, and a flurry of bubbles shot out of his mouth in excitement. The mech kicked furiously and flapped his wings, but the pair's combined weight was only dragging them deeper. And by the looks of things, Starscream wasn't about to offer aid any time soon.

Seven looked up and a silent shriek escaped his mouth. His audials were shorting out, and his grip on his double's wrist was slipping. The Seeker snarled at himself, kicking harder, refusing to go down without a fight. But the sky had never looked so distant, not even when he couldn't see it.

The slight mech struggled up towards the surface, what felt like miles away. But his spiked pedes were not made for swimming, and his large, sodden wings had begun to drag him down along with Starscream's dead weight. The frigid water was inducing his systems' shutdown sequences, and his optics were failing him now. He screamed in a panic and chokingly swallowed gallons of the icy water, lashing out as his double slipped out of his grasp and down to the lake's dark, unforgiving floor.

He was so tired. All the fighting and flying, not to mention swimming Seven had done in the past few hours had drained him past his limits. The Seeker gave one last feeble kick and started to cry as he felt his very limbs beginning to resist him. He couldn't save Starscream, not even himself from the cold clutches of death. It was inevitable, he thought as he stopped fighting the water. Who could fight a force of nature? The cycles of life? He supposed that this was his punishment for trying to bring his double back. The universe didn't owe him anything. The cruel irony of fate could kill him itself.

 _But you owe it to Starscream_ , a voice seemed to pipe up in the back of his processor.

He did. After several millennia of waging a war—or at least having the memories of doing so, Seven wasn't ready to bow to the inevitable just yet. He forced his limbs to move and grit his denta, just managing to grab Starscream's fingertips. The mech couldn't hear the water swirling around him as he churned his limbs, but he wasn't getting anywhere except closer to death. But then his thruster sputtered and coughed to life, beginning to propel him and his lifeless double towards the surface.

The Seeker broke the surface with a sputtering gasp. He fumbled with his thigh plating, but his fingers were too stiff to pull the ground bridge remote out, much less operate the thing were he able to. The mech pushed his thruster—painful as it was—and kicked feebly towards the shore, which fortunately was not too distant. He went under a couple times, optics shorting in and out, but finally managed to sink his pedes into the muck and dragged himself halfway out of the water. Starscream's fingers slipped out of his stiff grasp, but Primus was he exhausted. He felt like he'd never truly been cold or tired before in comparison to this. Which included that one time he'd been caught on top of the Autobots' base in that rainstorm. He collapsed in the shallows with a splash, knowing with every fluttering beat of his spark that he was on the brink of joining his double in either the Allspark or Pit. His systems couldn't handle the drastic temperature change from melting his armor to freezing it.

Seven opened a comm link to the _Harbinger_ 's frequency, feeling a staggering surge of relief that his unit still functioned. But the mech had no idea if anyone could hear him. He couldn't even hear himself as he begged for a ground bridge.

His optics shorted again, and suddenly he found himself washed in a familiar, all-too welcome greenish glow. Ratchet ran through and froze, taking in the nearly-identical pair, one of which was still fighting to stay alert. The medic let out an audible gasp when he saw Starscream in the water, waves lapping gently against his armor and splashing over his faceplates and dark optics. The white mech shook himself and sloshed over to Seven, tugging a thermal blanket out of his medical kit.

"Here," he held it out to the Seeker. Seven got up and shakily took it, nodding with a grateful expression, though it could have just as well been a violent shiver. The blanket slipped out of his grasp and he tried to retrieve it, but the mech fell into the water and didn't get back up.

Ratchet dragged Starscream onto the land where he wouldn't drift away, then helped his clone up. Seven nodded in thanks, clutching the blanket tighter, wings lowering

"You tried to save him, didn't you?" The medic asked in awe. Seven's optics flickered, perplexed.

"I-I can't hear you," he said, his voice's pitch somewhat off, his denta chattering, "the c-cold d-d-did something t-to my-my audials."

Ratchet nodded, he knew to expect that Seven's systems would experience glitches or partial shutdowns due to the frigid temperatures of the glacial lake. He got the silver bot to his pedes and after making sure that he could stand on his own, went over to Starscream. The latter had a jagged black streak that wound its way down the right side of his faceplates and across his chest plate, ending right over its center, cutting a slash through the Decepticon insignia. It was a stark contrast to his otherwise largely light-colored paint job, save for tidbits like his dark shoulder plates, tubing around his midsection, and the vents on the sides of his helm.

The medic sighed to himself, wanting to bombard Seven with questions, frustrated at the Seeker's present inability to answer. _Oh well_ , he conceded. _It can wait._

The water pulled at Seven's legs and he struggled towards the ground bridge as Ratchet gathered up Starscream's chassis, and the pair walked through.

* * *

I lazily watched the humans chattering amongst themselves, my audials ringing. At least I could hear that. Will was grinning and making animated, swooping gestures while the others ringed him, rapt. His hands suddenly shot outwards as if imitating an explosion, and Raf jumped back, his glasses askew. The others laughed at the young boy, who smiled sheepishly and chuckled, straightening them.

Jack saw me watching them and said something to me, earning the others' attention. I said that I can't read lips and shrugged, tapping the side of an audial on my helm. He gave me an apologetic smile and turned back to his friends. Oliver's gaze lingered, worry shading his features. I shook my helm and jerked it slightly at Ratchet, mouthing "I'll be fine." I just prayed that my present deafness wasn't permanent.

The medic was stooped over Starscream. The latter's chest plating was opened up, though I couldn't make much sense of anything I saw. And I couldn't exactly ask questions either, until I was able to hear an answer.

It was infuriating.

Ratchet straightened slightly and frowned even more slightly at a screen in front of him, connected to a cable which was in turn connected directly to Starscream's spark chamber.

"It's as I feared," Ratchet's voice trailed off, his voice crackling with static. I started at the noise.

"Something up, Sev?" Miko prodded, flicking a strand of pink hair out of her mouth.

My optics widened and I looked at her, "I c-can hear you!"

"Feeling better?" the medic asked, his voice less staticky this time.

I shuttered my optics in relief for a brief moment and pulled the blanket tighter, allowing my wings to flutter. "Maybe," I smirked, opening my optics, "I haven't quite decided yet."

"Glad to hear it." The medic said. I frowned at him and he let out a quiet chuckle. "Come here, let me inspect your optics."

As if on cue, they shorted in and out. "You okay, Sev?" Will asked, seeing this.

"I'm doing b-better than Starscream." I replied as I leaned against the wall, snuggling into my blanket a bit more, wanting the shivers to go away. "What d-did you say you f-feared?" I prodded, looking to Ratchet.

"I'm jealous that we can't have one, that looks so comfy!" Miko groaned loudly.

I smirked and pulled it tighter, "Take a dip in a g-glacial, f-f-freezing lake and I'm su-sure it'll happen."

"Why not just go outside? It's over ninety out there." Raf suggested.

"No," Ratchet corrected, "you still have yet to completely regain your full range of motion, and at present, the sunlight could damage your optics. Speaking of," he plucked a spindly tool off a table next to him, "get over here."

"Control freak," Oliver stage-whispered to the other humans.

"Wh-what is that?" I asked nervously, but obliged. "And you d-dodged my question, R-Ratchet."

"Noninvasive," he assured me.

"You, d-dear doctor, know how t-t-to answer a question." I conceded wryly, not feeling too reassured as I wrapped the blanket more snugly around my shoulder plates.

"As for your earlier question, I would prefer to explain when everyone is present. Speaking of, where are the others?" The medic asked, raising the tool to my optics. I scowled and blinked furiously, but slowly got used to it, occasionally biting my glossa to keep from spitting insults.

"How… _c-considerate_ of you, d-doctor." I said acidly. "We were fairly evenly matched, but Megatron t-terminated Bumblebee." My wings drooped, and Ratchet nearly dropped the tool.

"No," the medic breathed, looking me square in the optics.

Raf sniffled, "He can't have…"

I cut in hurriedly, not wanting to be the cause for grief. I knew firsthand how much it sucked. "Listen—Megatron threw his chassis into the Omega Lock, which is comprised of raw cyber-matter. I fell in, but when Arcee pulled me out, my chassis was good as new. And Bumblebee was over there—" I waved my servo vaguely, feeling a wave of exhaustion crash over me as I did so and had to stifle a yawn, "—standing tall, good as new. And Rafael," I smiled down at the small human, "he got his voice back."

Raf gasped and rushed over to hug my leg. I stiffened, but relaxed and ran the tip of my talon through his hair. Ratchet lowered his tool, ushering the boy away. "And you were attempting to resurrect Starscream?!"

I looked at my double's supine chassis on the other berth, "That was the idea, yes; however, it seems it was foolish one. A desperate act that almost cost the team another bot."

"Hey, it's not your fault that you nearly froze!" Oliver pointed out.

I looked down at him, too tired to properly argue. "I wish it wasn't, however, whom am I to blame? Starscream?"

"Do you have any knowledge of what happened to his helm and chest plate?" Ratchet inquired, "It could very well be the reason that he is–" the medic cut himself off.

"… is what?" I gasped excitedly, my weariness forgotten. "Alive?" Ratchet remained silent and my wings drooped, "He—the cyber-matter worked on his chassis, I can see that much. What aren't you telling us?"

The medic sighed, "Is there no keeping it from you until a better time? The others have a right to hear it–"

"Then I am willing to listen twice, doctor." I scowled, discarding the blanket.

He stepped up to me, "No. My word is final."

My wings flared up, "Then allow me to return to the battle. I need to give my former master the respect he deserves."

"You almost just offlined from the cold, are you really trying to risk your spark so soon after that?!" he spat.

"The fate of both Earth and Cybertron hangs in the balance of this battle, so yes, if it means sacrificing myself to ensure the safety of both, then so be it." I unsheathed Valor but held it by its spiky crossguard, not wanting the speed boost just yet.

"That isn't exactly the best of both worlds," Jack pointed out somberly.

"I know," I grumbled in resignation, "but there's never a panacea for anything, is there?"

Ratchet's eyebrows furrowed, "Very true, Seven, and though I'm sure the others could use another set of blasters, yours are not the ones I have in mind."

My wings sank, "Who else is there upon this planet, doctor? Besides you and myself–"

"Wheeljack."

"Oh, so you're looking to replace me, is it? How do you even know if he will cooperate?" I spat, my wings fanning out. I slid Valor back into its sheath on my thruster, scowling at the medic.

"Don't be such a party pooper, Sev! Jackie's a good fighter, but I'd like to see him against you. You could fly circles around him!" Miko encouraged.

My wings fluttered and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth at the compliment. "Indeed, however, that would sound a bit more impressive if he was also blessed with flight capabilities."

She blew a raspberry at me. "C'mon, you know what I mean. And once he and Bulk are back in business, then the fun's gonna start! First night: party! I'll bring my guitar and we can lay down some raw metal while you bots get a lob game going!"

"Note to self," I muttered, "go for a flight and don't return."

Ratchet and I shared a glance, "Don't fly too fast, I'll need to keep up. And I'm adverse to this idea as well, but I am not 'fighter material' and you need to recuperate."

"I'm fine!" I protested, wings flaring up. "I'm not even shivering!" It was only partially true. I wasn't shivering anymore, yes, but the awful cold still had yet to fully leave my frame.

The medic sighed, "You are cleared for duty. But keep in mind that I might not give you a blanket next time you decide to go swimming near the ice caps."

"Take care, doctor." I smirked.

I emerged from a ground bridge, my sword's hilt wrapped tightly in my grip as I stepped onto the ring of the Omega Lock. Everyone's weapons were lowered, though both sides seemed to have acquired a few more dings and scrapes than I remembered.

I froze, my pedes feeling cemented to the metal. Optimus and Megatron stood center stage, shaking servos. Shockwave was here too, standing just behind the silver warlord.

"We stand at the dawn of a new age," the red mech began.

"One of peace?" the warlord affirmed.

"Indeed, Megatron."

Valor clattered to the floor, my jaw with it.


	33. 33 - Waves II

XXXIII - Waves II

 _Earlier…_

No one had noticed Seven's disappearance, save for Smokescreen. The white mech was concerned that he hadn't returned yet, but he was more focused on Bumblebee. Everyone that could watched the yellow mech and Megatron staring each other down. Ultra Magnus was still unconscious, but Bulkhead had pulled him away from the battle, keeping him mostly out of danger. Dreadwing wasn't doing so well, his servo pressed to the deep slash on his side. Everyone else was more or less alright, but they all were tiring.

"The young scout," Megatron sneered, "I finished you so easily the first time, so quickly! Though I think I should have removed more than your voicebox when I had the chance!"

"Megatron," Bumblebee began firmly, "you've oppressed and silenced the voices of an entire planet. Isn't that more than enough? The war drags on, but neither side is truly fighting to win anymore. We're all fighting to stay alive, because it's all we can do. This war has become our way of life." One could've heard a pin drop. "Can't you see? There will never be a winner. No one will emerge victorious. We've nearly wiped ourselves into extinction! The only true victory we can achieve," he preached, servos clenching, "is lasting peace."

"You make a compelling argument, Bumblebee," Megatron said. "However, could either side really forget the other's transgressions?" He glared at Optimus as he spoke.

"We'll never know unless we try. Starscream, Seven, and I are proof that bots _can_ change, and earn each other's trust." Knock Out countered.

Optimus came forward and everyone—regardless of sides—parted to let him pass. The Prime came to a stop just out of reach of Megatron, and stood there for a tense, silent moment, neither speaking.

Megatron's stance shifted slightly, and Optimus transformed his blaster away, sheathing the Star Saber. "You once enlisted my help in saving this planet, now I ask of yours to save Cybertron." He extended his servo. "Our home can be restored to its former brilliance, given time. But Bumblebee is right," he glanced at the scout, a faint, grim smile gracing his faceplates, "our race must achieve lasting peace, or it all will be for naught."

"An impressive speech, Optimus. Say I were to humor your proposal," Megatron cocked his helm ever so slightly, his servos unwavering at his sides, but his gladiatorial sword did slide back into its sheath that was his arm. "this war has become the very essence of our race. Can any of us truly change our ways so easily, or be accepted by another?"

"Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. One way or another, Megatron, your tyranny ends upon this very day. As Bumblebee said, you have deprived the whole of Cybertron of its voice, and oppressed those who serve you."

"But he would just try to conquer Cybertron all over again, and enslave or terminate anyone who doesn't pledge allegiance to him!"Arcee broke in.

"Is there a point to your bluster?" Dreadwing sneered.

Megatron's gaze shifted and he glared at the blue Seeker, "Silence! This is between us!" He boomed.

"No." Optimus rumbled. "This is between all of us. Arcee is right, a true example of what will result from your oppression," he growled, "was Starscream." All the Autobots tensed. "He had endured greater suffering than anyone I have known, _at your servo_. And yet, chose to serve the greater good and fight for what is right, rather than continue as a pawn in your twisted tyranny. You, the Decepticons, came into possession of the cure, but did not seek to trade it." He growled. "And yet, when he departed this life, he had no harsh words. No complaints. That," Optimus' servo reached further, "is what we all should strive to be like."

The Prime stood straighter, looking Megatron square in his scarlet optics, "You said that 'May the rightful leader of Cybertron be the last mech standing.' But neither of us is meant to lead Cybertron, even if that opportunity was to arise. End this day, for the good of our species, our planet, humanity, and the memories of all who have been lost." Optimus' servo trembled. "The war must end, as all things do."

"And when do you think such an alliance would end?" The warlord prodded snidely.

"I do not know, only that a temporary armistice is better than none at all." The Prime stated adamantly. "It could provide the foundation for lasting peace, if only we are willing to begin the journey to get there."

Everyone watched with bated breath as Megatron actually seemed to mull it over, slowly reaching for the other mech's servo.

"I do not wish to intrude, My Lord, however, I find it most illogical of you to side with the Autobots." A deep voice rang out from above the ring, on the lowest deck of the _Nemesis_. A large purple mech stood above the rest, glaring down at them through a single, large red optic.

* * *

Once Megatron had recovered from his brief shock along with everyone, he nodded to the cyclops above them. "Shockwave! This is quite an unexpected turn. I thought you had perished on Cybertron."

The purple mech joined them a moment later on the ring of the Omega Lock, striding over to his leader. "That conclusion is perfectly logical, given that I was left for scrap in the space bridge explosion years ago, due to Starscream's incompetence. I notice he is not present."

"He perished months ago, but that is something that we shall speak of in greater detail at the appropriate time," Megatron rumbled.

"But the space bridge exploded, how did you survive?" Arcee exclaimed, hostility entering her tone.

Shockwave looked at her, "I do not know." his tone, however, portrayed no sense of longing, he merely was stating a fact. "I awoke in the rubble years ago, blinded. But in time, I repaired my wounds and continued to work on my studies."

Optimus stepped in, "This changes nothing."

"Ah, but it does." Megatron countered, "We can utilize Shockwave's logical insight into current matters, can we not?"

"If that is what you wish, my Lord." The cyclops rumbled.

Optimus held his servo a fraction higher and stepped closer to the tyrant, "My appeal still stands. Megatron, is this ancient was still worth fighting, when so many comrades have been lost, and worlds destroyed? Now, we possess the power to restore Cybertron, but it all will be for nothing if our planet will only become ravaged once again."

Shockwave nodded slowly, "Your argument is… logical."

All optics were on Megatron, who clearly was considering it.

"My Lord, you cannot ally the Decepticons with these desecrators!" Dreadwing snarled between gritted denta, the wound on his side clearly tormenting him. "They have no notion of honor, accepting traitors into their midst like long-lost allies! They will never maintain a lasting peace, even if we were capable of achieving it!"

"Which is why your cooperation is essential, Dreadwing." The warlord rumbled, turning on him. "Whatever decision that will be made must be unanimous–"

"Then terminate me, here and now, for I no longer wish to be a part of either side." he growled, his grip on his side tightening.

"Do not interrupt me!" the warlord barked.

The blue Seeker straightened, though it looked painful for him. "I will serve you no longer, nor you, Prime." He snarled. "A shadow of disgrace has been cast over both factions." And with that statement, he transformed, making to fly off, but Megatron grabbed his wing. The large jet jerked to a sudden stop.

Megatron threw him to the floor and he transformed, struggling to his pedes. The servo clutching his side which grew blue. "I stand by what I said."

"Then you shall die by it." The warlord said scathingly, and powered up his fusion cannon. Before anyone could do anything, the blue Seeker had a large hole clean through the center of his chest plate. He fell forward, surprised yellow optics offlining.

Everyone watched in shocked silence, aghast. But Megatron displayed no remorse, as if this was a regular occurrence among his ranks.

"Are you still going to appeal to him!" Bulkhead growled, swinging his helm over to his leader. "After _that_?!" he gestured with his wrecking ball at the blue mech's chassis. Optimus didn't answer, watching as Megatron walked over to Dreadwing's chassis. He heaved it up and deposited it into the swirling cyber-matter, watching as it was restored. The blue Seeker's optics finally onlined, and the warlord extended a servo. Dreadwing, looking briefly confused, took it.

"Let that be a lesson to all that dare oppose me," he rumbled, dropping his servo.

Everyone watched, many with jaws agape, as Optimus strode back over to the silver mech. His optics sparked with something steely, something that hadn't been there before. "Disband the Decepticons and join us in achieving lasting peace for our race, Megatron. Given what we just witnessed, I cannot tolerate another minute of your ruthless tyranny."

Shockwave nodded from behind the warlord. "Your reasoning is logical."

But Megatron already had the Prime's servo in a firm grip, staring him in the optics.

"We stand at the dawn of a new age," the red mech began.

"One of peace?" the warlord affirmed.

"Indeed, Megatron."

* * *

Shockwave stared me down with that eerie, single red optic of his. He addressed Megatron in an almost harsh tone, "You told me he was offline."

The warlord didn't drop his servo, but all helms swiveled over to me. I suddenly felt scared beneath all the pairs of optics drilling into me. "Indeed, Shockwave. But his clone is the mech standing before you."

"Explain. Now." My fists clenched, inviting anyone to answer. No one did. I felt like screaming, my helm swimming with questions, fear, anger, shock, and a seething mix of other emotions.

"Shockwave somehow survived," Smokescreen began, leering at the purple cyclops, "it sounded to me like there was an explosion a while ago."

"Not about that!" I barked. "Is everyone making nice?!" my voice took on a shrill note, "All the lives lost, and no one wins! THIS WAR HAS BEEN IN VAIN?!" I screamed.

"Seven, control yourself." Optimus commanded harshly.

"HAS NONE OF THIS BEEN WORTH IT?" I screeched, ignoring him. "The battles, the scars, the bots lost, _Cybertron_ , for frag's sake—and no one wins?!"

"No one will ever win, Seven." Bumblebee stated somberly, "Peace is the only victory we can hope for."

I transformed out a blaster, "Oh, really? Because when I left, you all were furiously trying to terminate each other. Megatron even succeeded with you!" I barked at the yellow scout, "And now you're clamoring for some deluded illusion of peace? It will never happen!" my febrile gaze fell onto the Prime and warlord.

"Sev, you're acting like you've got scrap for a processor!" Arcee spat. I turned on her, slowly beginning to power up my blaster.

"Seven, remember what Starscream said?" Knock Out asked, snatching up my attention. "He realized the war wasn't getting anyone anything–" the red mech gestured with his servo as he spoke, "–just dragging on and on while preventing any sort of progress from being made."

That was a low blow. "Yes, and he was half off his helm with fever at the time!"

"Does it matter what state he was in?" Bulkhead broke in, "He was right! Maybe we were fighting for something in the beginning—against Megatron's rule, control of energon, but what does it matter now? If we make an alliance, we'll all have as much of the stuff as we want!"

"Yet another sound argument for merging factions," Megatron said, smirking.

"You both agree, don't you?" I said quietly, looking from Optimus to Megatron and back. "You actually agree with each other."

The unlikely pair finally let go of the other's servo, though who did it first, I couldn't tell. Optimus' stance seemed to shift, he was addressing all of us now. "We shall conference later at a more formal time and place, the two of us and anyone who wishes to come. For the moment, wounds need to be tended to, and there are other matters to be addressed." His stern, azure gaze fell onto me at that. I felt my wings ruffle, an uncomfortable line of fear trickling down my spinal struts.

"As soon as possible, before anyone has a chance to change their minds." Bumblebee added, oblivious to how the Prime's gaze almost looked sinister. Almost. Everyone seemed to agree with him. I huffed and retrieved Valor, feeling the familiar time hiccup before I sheathed it and my surroundings returned to normal.

As normal as this slag would ever be.

* * *

I didn't know where to start. Everyone, even Optimus and Ratchet were looking to me like I had all the answers, when I didn't know jack. Speaking of, the humans were gone. Ratchet had probably bridged them to their homes for the evening. The rest expected me to tell them what had happened, what I had done, and I had. But not happily. Somehow, they expected more. Was it not enough? Did the story seem unfinished? No one wins, no one loses, except the ones who've already passed on.

It all went back to Starscream. Nothing with him had changed since I'd returned, other than that Ultra Magnus now occupied the berth beside him. Fortunately for him, it was a given that he would wake up. As such, no one was fussing over him much, we all knew he'd be fine; Starscream was our real concern.

I crossed my arms, staring Ratchet down. "You said you knew things, yet refused to tell me until the others were present. Well, here we all are. Talk." It was infuriating me how dilatory they were acting, the medic in particular.

"We know Sev here dropped him into the Lock, but is he gonna come out of it?" Bulkhead asked, looking to the medic.

I jumped in before anyone could share their thoughts, "He was struck by lightning, just before he fell into the lake. I don't know what it did, but his optics came online for a split second."

Knock Out was excited by this, "It could have triggered a reboot!"

Ratchet seemed to be thinking along the same lines, "Yes, that much raw electricity would be more than enough to bring his chassis back online, and that would explain what happened to his faceplates."

It was as if a switch had been flipped, and suddenly the room was buzzing with questions, and they began to overlap each other until it became a cacophonous babble of voices, assaulting my audials.

"Is he alive?"

"Do you think you can–"

"Is there–"

"How–"

It became too discordant and loud to follow anymore. "JUST SHUT UP!" I screeched. Optimus stood taller, instantly commanding the attention of everyone present, and not needing to say a word. I fumed silently, my four wings at half their usual height.

"Yip, ip ip. If you all would speak _one at a time_ , I might actually be able to answer something!" Ratchet said, giving a small roll of his optics in exasperation. No one spoke up. "Well?"

"I-is he alive? Is he going to wake up?" This came from Knock Out, concern twisting his features.

Ratchet's expression darkened for a millisecond but he caught himself and donned an optimistic look that was a tad too forced. But it flickered and died altogether as his optics settled onto my double's lifeless chassis. "I've already checked, his spark is gone." the older bot began quietly. My wings drooped another few degrees and I slumped along with a few others. "I'm sorry." he added, likely seeing our shifts in posture. "Technically speaking, however, his chassis is alive." this brought on a few gasps.

"How!" I exclaimed before anyone else could. They all were asking the same question with their optics.

"I rushed him onto life support–you must not have noticed, Seven." I inclined my helm in a slight nod.

"What's the prognosis, doc?" Smokescreen pushed, clearly growing impatient. He wasn't alone.

The medic sighed irritably, "For the upteenth time: my name is not 'doc.' And to answer your question, for lack of a better term, he is brain-dead. His chassis is functional while sustained externally, but if his spark does not re-enter its chamber…" he trailed off, not needing to finish the thought.

Bulkhead blinked, confusion clouding his features, "So, he's not dead–"

"But not quite alive either." Arcee cut in grimly.

I struggled to put sense to my thoughts and threw my arms up in confusion, "C-could his spark somehow, I don't know, re-enter his chassis?"

"I don't know." Ratchet answered.

Knock Out jumped in, "Nothing like this has ever happened before, and if it has, it's never been documented."

"Which is why we are going to have an optic or camera on him at all times, while noting each and every change." The white medic said stoutly.

Knock Out groaned.

"Sounds like we'll just have to wait and see." this was Bumblebee, recovering the conversation, his arms crossed over his yellow chest plating.

"Indeed, Bumblebee." Optimus agreed.

"I wouldn't get anyone's hopes up," Ratchet interjected grimly, but smiled nonetheless at the sound of the scout's voice, "the few scans I have ran suggest that he is in deep stasis lock," my eyebrows shot up and the medic cleared his vocalizer hastily, seeing this, "meaning that his processor is showing to be fully functional, for the time being."

"Is he trapped in some kind of… perpetual dream, then?" Bumblebee asked.

"No. I said that his processor is _fully functional_ , but at present, it's displaying no signs of activity. Unless his spark is somehow reintroduced to his chassis, he will not wake up." The medic's tone became grim and he looked away, "I'm sorry. I've done what I can."

"Say we found his spark and got it back in his chassis. Then would he wake up?" Arcee asked, sounding more curious than skeptical.

Optimus shuttered his optics for a moment, "While I am sure the doctors are competent to provide an adequate answer, I harbor my own doubts. Who are we to tamper with the natural order? I believe Starscream found peace in his final moments—is it right of us to take that from him?"

Everyone turned to the large mech instantly, surprise and confusion clouding their faceplates. My mouth ran dry.

Bulkhead shattered the silence with nervous laughter, "Ha, if we could get Screamy back, of course we would, and we all know he'd want to!"

"Was it right for him to get murdered by MECH?" Knock Out said, a vengeful undercurrent of loathing darkening his tone, but it wasn't directed at the Prime.

"No. However, he still succumbed to the virus, finding peace in the end. It is not our place to bestow life into one who has passed." Optimus stated firmly.

"You–you don't want him back, do you?" I whimpered, feeling my wings dip.

Smokescreen was taken aback, "He didn't say that!"

"It's implied." I hissed. "Am I simply good enough? Close enough to being Starscream, _the real deal_ , that it doesn't matter anymore if we bring him back or not? Because then there would just be two of him!" I suddenly found myself shouting, my whole frame trembling, fists clenched. "Because you're wrong." I added quietly. "It's not the same."

No one said anything for a long moment. The tension in the room was like a live wire, ready to spray electricity everywhere at a moment's notice. Regret ate at my insides: I knew I shouldn't have said that.

They were speechless. "Sev, how long have you been holding this in?" Bumblebee asked gently, taking a step closer as if to offer some attempt at consolation.

I transformed and sat heavily on my landing gear, not wanting any of them to see my expression. A large, familiar servo found itself on one of my wing strakes but I didn't look at it, letting my flaps droop. I was so fatigued. The cyber-matter might have removed the wounds from my chassis, but I still had fought tirelessly for hours upon hours and then was dropped in an arctic lake to boot. "I'm not leaving," I said quietly to Starscream, "you called me your brother. I promise, I will never leave you… I swear it on my spark." The servo's pressure on my strake increased slightly.

I focused on its owner and Optimus' kind faceplates greeted me, surprise, surprise. He wasn't quite looking in the right spot. "I know you are tired and hurting, we all are. And you have earned your rest. But keep in mind that we all will support you through this, no matter the outcome. Myself especially."

"I know," I mumbled gratefully, allowing my flaps to perk up.

Optimus straightened and faced the rest of the group, looking to Ratchet in particular. "What of the virus?"

"I think we're all wondering that," Knock Out joined in.

A smile cracked the older bot's white faceplates. "Gone, without a trace."

I smiled too—but they couldn't see it behind my jet mode—and lapsed into the blissful void of recharge.


	34. 34 - Inception

XXXIV - Inception

"Whose bright idea was it to fly into the ocean! All this salt water is clogging my actuators!" I sputtered irritably, churcing my legs while making slow, circular motions with my arms to tread the water.

Starscream broke the surface beside me with a little help from his thruster. "My dear clone, why point fingers? You enjoyed it as much as I did," he said knowingly. I huffed, blinking water out of my optics before diving back under. The water was a pleasant temperature as it danced through my fingers and over my wings. I wasn't terribly fond of swimming, but I had to admit that this was nice. I kicked out and stroked towards shore, watching a few curious fish investigate me before flitting away into the murk. I couldn't see the bottom beneath me and that spurred me onwards, leaving an uneasy feeling in my tank. My thruster blasted to life, flameless, propelling me on towards shore.

When I reached it, Starscream was there waiting for me, bone-dry. "You sure took your time," he pointed out.

I disentangled a sodden clump of something-or-another from my left heel strut, making a face at the ensuing _squelch_. "Did the others leave so soon? I imagine Smokescreen would have joined us."

"He's not here."

"Too good for us?" I huffed wryly. "At the very least, I expected Knock Out or even Bee." But as I looked around in a slow circle, it became very clear that no one but the two of us was here, and that my chassis was dry. There was no way any bot short of a sparkling would be able to hide behind any of the scrub on the beach. "I swear that the others were just here, is there something urgent happening at the _Harbinger_?" I frowned, suddenly worried. The ocean lapped at our pedes, making strange sucking sounds.

"Where are we?" My double asked, ignoring my question. He almost looked like he knew something that I didn't.

"Wh-how am I supposed to know?"

"Look at me." Starscream commanded, his stern tone taking me by surprise. I did it nervously. "Think, Seven. How did we get here?"

"We both know," I said haughtily, "you're wasting our time. We flew from–uh…" now that I tried to grope for the memory file, it was much less clear, like a switch had been thrown in my processor, or something else… "What?! What happened to my memory? My fragging _processor_ , Starscream!"

"What's your last memory?" my double asked, on-edge now.

I struggled to remember, like trying to dig for something I couldn't see that was beneath meters of syrup. "The _Harbinger_ , then…"

"Have you ever been able to remember how a dream begins?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow in a way that just looked ridiculous.

Flustered, I sputtered, "I—are you saying this is a dream?"

"We may never know if it is or not unless you find one or the other is true, that is."

"That really clears things up," I scowled sarcastically, but slowly began to believe him. How else was he able to hear me underwater when we didn't have an open comm link? Or to have seemingly teleported out of the ocean, bone-dry…

"Seven!" Starscream shouted, snapping me out of my thoughts with enough force that I jumped. The world, no, _dreamscape_ had undergone a drastic change: we now sat on the edge of a skyscraper, however, that wasn't what threw me. "It almost looks like Iacon," he breathed, sounding only mildly surprised.

"Almost…" I breathed, swinging my legs and leaning back on my arms. "So, if this is my dream, how are you still here if–"

"I'm a what?" he said, affronted, wings on end. "A figment of your overworked processor?"

"What else would you be?" I retorted defensively, stilling my legs and glaring out over the almost-familiar horizon. "Every fragging time I find myself inside a dreamscape, you're there with me! It's torturous!" I couldn't remember getting up, but I must have at some point because I was on my pedes now, glaring down at him. My wings had flattened and servos were balled into fists. "Of course," I continued scathingly, "you're just a fragment of my subconscious, so you'll never understand. You'll never know what it's like for me every time I see my reflection, the spitting image of my dead twin. You called me your _brother_! I WATCHED YOU DIE IN MY FRAGGING ARMS, STAR!"

Starscream—the figment of my imagination that looked like him—wouldn't meet my optics. I noticed that his frame had become transparent like a ghostly apparition, a cruelly fitting description. "I-I shouldn't have expected you to react any differently… but I wish you didn't take my death so hard. I'm so sorry, Seven, but I didn't know it would happen! I was arrogant, thinking that all my problems were over when I reclaimed my wings and T-Cog, but oh, it was only the beginning."

"And what the scrap is that supposed to mean?!" I snapped, and the light seemed to darken.

My double slumped and put his helm in his servos, watching the horizon. It was the bleakest picture I could ever come up with. His frame flickered. "Promise me this, right now, you'll keep your emotions in check. I haven't gotten this down to a science, but the last time you panicked, I was shut out. All this time I've tried to get back in here, hear me!?"

I nodded slowly, pretending to understand. But Starscream growled to himself and motioned for me to take a seat again. "I'll try to start from the beginning, but I'm dealing with time and for all I know, this could just be a loop without a starting place."

I blinked. "Oh, now I'm about to receive another lecture from my subconscious? The whole 'Seven, you should take better care of yourself' again? And what's this about some," I waved a servo to move the words along, "temporal loop?"

"I was wrong then," he began. I raised an eyebrow, listening. "Yes, you should really take better care of yourself," he chuckled at the little derisive snort I made, "except… to be frank, I'm not dead, Sev. But I will be, unless we do something.

"Wh… how? Do you mean to tell me that you are _here_ , right now? Really here?" I didn't believe it. It simply wasn't possible.

He nodded grimly. "I wouldn't say 'me' like you remember it—my chassis is still very dead—but some semblance of myself remains." He bit his lip as if expecting me to shoot him down.

"Your spark?"

He nodded.

I suddenly felt a wave of vertigo, and the skyscraper seemed to sway beneath me in the faint breeze. "L-last time—that was you in the park?"

He nodded again, "What happened to me?"

I gave him the short version, sometimes pausing to add details and be sure what I was rambling was actually the truth. How I had went and became a Decepticon for a stint, blew up our base ("I was forced to!"), then rejoined the Autobots. How we discovered and then fought for control of the Omega Lock, Bumblebee's demise and ensuing resurrection, and how I attempted to do the same with him. My double was rapt, drinking in every word like he was starving. "There was a lightning bolt that struck you, and if what Ratchet said is to be believed, it helped zap your systems back online. Apparently, that wouldn't have happened without your spark. However, I saved the best for last. The dear doctor ran a few scans of your systems, and the virus is gone, completely and utterly.

"Now," I continued, if one can assume that nothing has changed, you're in stasis lock while I'm beside your berth."

"How cozy." Starscream smiled, letting that sink in for a long moment of silence that stretched on and on until it pulled taut with an almost audible _snap!_ My twin took an intake and leaned back on his arms, looking up at the stars which had each popped into existence a while ago, one by one. "My chassis is online, but lacking my spark? And somehow I'm able to interact with you on a mental level…" he trailed off, frowning at the stars. So many stars. "Primus, I used to be a scientist, but none of this makes a shred of sense!"

"You're telling me," I groaned. His wings drooped, making him look weary. But then a memory resurfaced like a slap to the faceplates. "Hold that thought, did you say I–we could bring you back?!"

"I'm not sure… it's merely a theory I concocted—who's to say it could even be possible?" his wings drooped further, "And now I am obligated to tell you, but I know you will only say I'm insane, and shut me out!" He hid his faceplates from me, and only now did I notice that he was trembling like a leaf. "You—my _clone_ —have never believed me, and I'll wind up trapped in that perpetual nether realm again!" My spark hitched and sank. His form flickered. "You already think I've lost it…"

I took a seat next to him, trying to heed his advice and remain calm. "What are you saying?" _What happened to that confident bot from the park?_

Starscream drew into himself, and it took a good deal of coaxing and threatening to get my double to emerge from his ball of armor and wings.

"No matter how mad you think it will sound, I'll listen. It's okay, you're okay–" I winced.

He glared at me, "Neither of us is okay."

I suddenly was prompted to wonder if it was possible to get injured in a dream.

"I said I will listen." I repeated in the most patient tone I could muster.

He took a shaky intake and seemed to uncoil, wings relaxing and bobbing up. "Just–don't interrupt me, My spark—me, I mean—time is different for it." My jaw might have gone slack at that pronouncement. "I've had these, I don't know what one would call them… _flashbacks_." His tone suggested they were something more unpleasant than that word usually meant. "By the time I grew used to them, I was thrust into one of my dreams. My past self's dream, to be precise."

I shook myself, "Like now? Do you–can you remember it?"

Starscream shook his helm, "Its details faded into obscurity a long time ago, as all dreams do. But I spoke with my past self, and I remember the shock it gave me then."

"When?" I prodded.

"When I first met Oliver, in his house," he answered, and his expression began to take on a hopeful look, "You do believe me, then?"

I took a moment to respond. "I–I think so. It's just a lot to process—that you are alive in some freakish way—" he frowned, "and that I'm here right now, speaking with you." An idea began to dawn on me as I looked out over the Cybertron's surface glittering in the faint light, seeing the first hint of Hadean shyly peeking up over the edge of the horizon. I stood up and stretched, "How long have we been here!? I need to wake up, the others will be worrying, and Primus knows what those crazed bots might have done–"

"Easy!" Starscream exclaimed. I looked back at him, he was transparent and flickering again. "Time is slower in here, it may have only been a couple minutes up there, or a couple hours. It's hard to tell, but it hasn't been as long as it feels in here." My double jerked a thumb at the sky to show.

"I-I think I'm having an existential crisis, but you're right. What were you saying?" I asked, shaking some feeling back into my wings.

The other Seeker was much more sure of himself now, "I think that with your help, I can convince my past self to alter his actions so that I never die to begin with, and we both get out of this mess."

My optics widened. "That is hardly plausible, but is it even possible?! What if you make circumstances worse–or create some sort of paradox! Who knows what could happen–you could unwittingly change major events or–"

"SEVEN!" He shouted, his voice faint as if coming from the far end of a tunnel. My twin's chassis had faded drastically and continued to do so, dissolving into the waxing light. I took a few slow, deep intakes in an attempt to calm myself, and it worked. But he still was fading. "It's okay…" he trailed off. "Find me the next time you recharge. I'll be waiting."

Without even thinking, I lunged forward and caught him in a crushing embrace. "By the Allspark, I've missed you so much! Don't leave now!"

He smiled sadly, but he was so faint now that it could just as well have been my imagination. "I'll be waiting, brother."

* * *

Bumblebee whistled to the open, more-or-less empty room, lost to internal musings. The sound felt familiar, and he appreciated it more now that he had his own voice back because he could choose whether he wanted to chirp and whistle or not. Some tune he'd heard on the radio when he picked Raf up from school, more than once. It was his shift to keep an optic on Starscream and Ultra Magnus, and it wasn't exactly action-packed.

"Livin' like we're renegades…"

"That's overplayed," Seven criticized out of nowhere.

Bumblebee started. "Hey Sev, sorry. I didn't know you were awake."

Seven transformed into his bipedal mode and leaned against Starscream's berth, arms folded across his chest plate nonchalantly, but it couldn't have looked more forced. The mech looked giddy. "I am now. Where are the others? I thought I would wake to my tail fins tied in knots."

"Consider yourself lucky." The yellow mech chuckled.

Seven wasn't listening anymore, he stared down at his double's lifeless chassis. His faceplates were serene in stasis lock, and for a moment, his clone sympathized with Optimus; was it right to take that from him? But Starscream himself had told him otherwise, and Seven knew with all his spark that he was going to try his hardest to bring his double back from the grave. Even if it seemed crazy, or even impossible to the others. He had a sinking feeling that none of the other 'Bots would believe his tale if he so much as breathed a word of it.

That peaceful mask was an illusion, one pierced by the jagged black scar down his right side and the army of machines keeping his chassis functional.

"Hey, Sev?" The yellow scout piped up, startling the Seeker, "Wanna go for a drive and take your mind off all this?"

The silver mech huffed, shaking himself, "With what, my landing gear?"

Bumblebee only laughed in reply and transformed, revving his engine loudly. Seven's helm snapped over to look at Starscream hopefully, as if the latter would jump awake at the noise.

"C'mon Sev, best two out of three!"

The Seeker shot a glance at Ultra Magnus, who was still unconscious on the berth next to Starscream. The yellow muscle car drove out of sight. Seven jogged after him and stopped beside the car once he was outside, casually leaning against a large boulder.

"Ready?" Bumblebee asked, revving his engine again.

Seven watched him, "I'll give you a two minute head start, to the road and five miles south of down it."

"You're on, Sevvie."

The Seeker watched him race off and began to count off in his helm, grinning like a fool and not even bothering to tell him off for the nickname.

* * *

Cybertron gleamed like a silvery-blue pearl amid the inky blackness of the final frontier. The _Nemesis_ swooped above the metal planet's surface, keeping its distance from the moons. It accelerated, getting a gravity assist from the large planet.

"Fools!" Megatron barked in laughter from the warship's bridge, facing the massive array of view screens which presently showed the planet's glittering surface blur past beneath.

"Cybertron is restored."

Megatron turned at the sound of the Seeker's deep voice. "Better, Dreadwing. I did not hear you come in."

"My apologies, my Lord. It was not my wish to intrude." The blue mech dipped his helm in a shallow bow.

"Has Shockwave received a sample of the cyber-matter?" The warlord inquired, regarding his second with a new air of authority.

"Indeed, Lord Megatron."

"Good, Dreadwing. Has there been any progress in locating the Autobots?"

The Seeker frowned, "Does that issue remain on the table with the armistice? I would think not."

"Ah, but Dreadwing! Who could be capable of maintaining such an armistice without the proper infrastructure?" Megatron asked innocently.

"If the Autobots fail to meet our terms, we eliminate them?"

"You always have caught on quickly," the warlord's smile dripped with poison, his innocent demeanor having been burned away.

"My Lord, you do not intend to uphold the cease-fire?" Dreadwing was far from skeptical.

"Oh, I do." Megatron didn't fight the diabolical grin darkening his features, "I intend to let them all rest in peace."

* * *

"Enjoy the beauty rest, Maggie?" The white mech jibed, playing catch with a grenade.

Ultra Magnus sat up on his berth and took in his surroundings, and there was no mistaking the mech leaning against the wall opposite him, a cocky smile on his faceplates.

"Wheeljack." He rumbled disdainfully.

The Wrecker caught the grenade and clipped it to his hip. "What gave it away? The swords?"

"Soldier, were you too busy cavorting in the wilderness to aid us in battle?"

"Nice to see you too, chief," Wheeljack muttered, "I haven't heard anything about a scuffle, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by, give Bulk a visit. But the place's deserted, and I wasn't expecting _you_. Thought I'd stick around for a bit, see if anyone decides to swing by."

"Soldier, if you had arrived earlier, you could have aided our unit in battle against the Decepticons." The blue mech growled.

Wheeljack smirked and crossed his arms, "And steal all the fun? Besides," he adopted a much more serious tone, "by the look of things, you and Sev have been through the wringer. Thought the doc would be here at least, keeping an optic on the two of you."

"Sir."

" _Sir_."

Ultra Magnus noticed Seven's supine form for the first time, dead to the world and hooked up to enough machines whose combined power could create a black hole. The blue mech actually felt a pang of pity for the ailing Decepticon, then a consequent surge of disgust at himself. Yes, the silver Seeker looked harmless and was clearly worse for wear, despite his gleaming chassis. But something was new: a jagged black mark down the right side of his chest and faceplates. Magnus knew that all the other Autobots viewed him as one of their own, even Optimus. But he also knew Decepticons didn't change their stripes: once evil, always evil. That brought on another realization: the crimson stripes on the Seeker's large wings had vanished.

"You're doin' a lot of thinking in that helm of yours, care to share?" Wheeljack huffed, jerking the larger mech out of his reverie.

"What happened to him?" The larger mech queried, scrutinizing the silver mech in case he was faking.

"Dunno. Poor guy was like that when I showed up." The Wrecker went over to the comatose bot and leaned over him, "Sev?" he tapped sharply on his faceplates, "Anyone home?"

"Wheeljack," Ultra Magnus chastised, "Wait for the doctor to return, then you can question him about Seven's condition." He stood, not looking thrilled at the prospect.

Wheeljack shrugged, "Suit yourse–"

The sound of faint but steadily growing engine noise cut him off, and both mechs listened intently, going closer to main entrance. A yellow muscle car resembling a Camaro suddenly zipped into the room, followed by a silver F-16. Wheeljack ducked as the jet flew over his helm, and the duo simultaneously transformed.

"Wheeljack!" Bumblebee exclaimed. "When did you get here?"

The Wrecker was too stunned to say anything meaningful. "Your voice?!"

The Seeker's wings snapped up to their usual place on his back and he straightened up, standing a little taller than the white mech. "An astute observation," he huffed. "Why did you come?"

"For the grand finale. Wait a sec…" Wheeljack wheeled around, looking from the standing Seeker to his double on the berth. Ultra Magnus looked similarly confused. "Uh, sorry to ask, but which one are you?"

Seven's wings fluttered, "Are the stripes not obvious enough?"

"Does that mean that's Starscream?" The white mech jerked a thumb at the Seeker on the berth.

Seven sighed, "Are you going to ask him?"


	35. 35 - On Three

**A/N: Everyone point fingers at Wheeljack.**

* * *

XXXV - On Three

Logically, Shockwave knew what Megatron would ask before he entered the room. When he did enter, the cyclops had perfectly prepared what he had to say.

The door to the Nemesis' lab irised open and the purple mech wasted no time. "My Lord, the cyber-matter's chemical structure is complex. I have worked diligently to create its formula, and it will not be much longer until I have it complete. However, I do not understand the logic behind your action of destroying the Omega Lock. It was irreplaceable."

"Shockwave," Megatron purred, "Indeed, it _was_ irreplaceable, but with the cyber-matter formula, we can engineer as much of it as we shall ever need and more. The Lock itself was far too valuable to allow it to exist any longer, if it were to fall into Autobot servos it could mean a swift end to the war."

The cyclops nodded, understanding. "Agreed. Simply put, the raw cyber-matter could allow us to cyber-form entire worlds, build armies, or new generations of doomsday weapons. However, the formula is unstable while it remains incomplete."

"Then make haste and complete it! We do not wish to give the Autobots time enough to launch a strike against us, and cyber-forming Earth will rid it of the parasitic species called humanity, as well as the wretched Autobots and Optimus Prime." The warlord emphasized.

"Master," Shockwave added as Megatron turned to leave, "forgive my impudence, but I do not see the logic behind ruling two worlds."

The warlord paused, "It has taken me some time to fully comprehend, but Cybertron and Earth are inextricably linked, two halves of one whole: Primus and Unicron. And to rule only one would be to never truly rule either."

"I will be swift," the cyclops promised.

"See to it that you are." Megatron rumbled, and left the room.

* * *

A thin trickle of water spilled onto some exposed circuitry of the cracked metal shell, its tip baking in the hot sun. The wires sparked and caught fire, only to be doused by the water and extinguished just as quickly. But the electricity had been cut off and the ends of the wires were burned past uselessness. The shadows within the thick shell shifted, and a spindly leg slowly reached up to the crack, investigating it. Then another followed, and they pried it open, flooding the interior of the pod with glaring sunlight. A pair of purple optics narrowed against the light and their owner climbed out of the pod, flexing her legs.

She got a good look at her former prison, smirked smugly, and then saw her surroundings. Twisted and broken beams formed a convoluted mesh, orangish boulders and chunks of cement ranging from the size of a toaster to a house were strewn everywhere, some leaning precariously on others. A massive insignia stood out like a sore thumb on the ground, marred only by a few slashes from the boulders and spots of char.

"The Autobot base?" She purred, "Well, maybe not anymore." The black femme slashed a large X through the symbol and straightened, focusing her thoughts onto hundreds of little mental threads that all seemed to trail off into the same direction.

Airachnid transformed and started up her engine, her black helicopter blades cutting into the sky. "My Insecticons, we are back in business."

* * *

 _Later…_

Bumblebee watched Seven walk into the mess hall and take a seat at a table at the far end of the room, not grabbing any energon.

The scout took a drink from his own cube and turned to Smokescreen, who had returned with the others a few hours ago, whispering, "Is it just me, or does something seem off about him?" He gave a slight motion at the Seeker in the corner of the room with his helm, the jet looked sullen.

Smokescreen shrugged, "Dunno. Whatever it is, it's his problem." Bumblebee gave him a look and grabbed his cube, getting up. "Hey, what'd I say?" The yellow bot ignored him and went over to the solitary mech, taking a seat across from him.

"I've learned from Raf that when someone sits alone in the cafeteria at school, it usually isn't for a good reason." Bumblebee prodded.

Seven gave him a look, "It depends on one's personality, however, this is hardly a human school."

"Same principles apply." The yellow scout added, watching Smokescreen get up and come over to sit next to him.

"Next time, Bee, try to ditch me a bit more subtly."

Bumblebee smiled and nodded, "Thanks for the tip. Sev, want some energon?"

"Pass. What are you doing?"

"We're just hanging out, things are pretty slow around here for once. Optimus and Bulkhead are off on recon, and Ratchet and Maggie are doing boring technical stuff. Something wrong?" Smokescreen said, watching him through the corner of his optics as he took a drink.

"I'm jet-lagged." He replied with a forced-looking yawn.

"Oh." The younger mech snickered.

Seven frowned at him, "What's so funny?"

"A jet getting jet-lagged?"

Bumblebee chuckled too. Said jet rolled his optics, "Yes, you two can have your fun. Now, Bee, remind me, who got a two minute head start, and who _else_ won the race?"

"It wasn't fair," the yellow mech argued lamely.

Wheeljack came over to the table and sat next to Seven, who scooted away, "I'd like to see you beat the _Jackhammer_."

Seven raised an eyebrow, "Am I being challenged? By a ground vehicle, who somehow thinks his ship superior to me?"

The Wrecker smirked, "You bet."

Bumblebee took a closer look at the Seeker when he wasn't looking, "You don't seem to be jet-lagged."

For a moment, a flicker of fear flashed across the jet's faceplates, but it was gone just as quickly. He cleared his vocalizer and stood, "Maybe I will get a cube."

Wheeljack stood too, "Sit tight, I'll do it for you. I was going to get a refill anyway."

Seven sat back down, examining the tips of his talons. "Suit yourself."

A few other bots got up and followed the Wrecker to refill their own cubes with medium grade energon. The white mech refilled his, then tucked it under his left arm and grabbed an empty cube, filling it under a different tap.

Wheeljack leaned over and whispered in Bumblebee's and Smokescreen's audials, "What do you say about taking his edge off?" He jerked his helm at the silver mech behind them, oblivious.

Bumblebee shrugged, trying to suppress a smirk and the two looked to Smokescreen. The white mech shrugged too, "Sounds fun, but what would Optimus say?"

"Ah, but the Big 'O' isn't here," Knock Out added, grabbing a cube of his own over the bot's shoulder plating, "But I must confess, the last time wasn't terribly gratifying to watch."

"Ah, watch what?" Seven asked as they went back over. Wheeljack slid the silver mech's cube to him over the table and the Seeker grasped it, nodding in thanks.

"Oh, you won't remember it." The red mech replied, waving a servo.

Seven's expression darkened and he looked slightly shamefaced, which was a first. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing, yet."

"Well now you have to tell us!" Smokescreen burst out, giving the bot beside him a push.

"Watch the finish!" Knock Out exclaimed, slapping his servo away. "All I was referring to was the time when Megatron interrogated him…" he trailed off at the look Seven was giving him.

"When?" Bumblebee asked.

The Seeker's wings drooped and he took a long drink from his cube, swirling it thoughtfully, "There's no avoiding it, is there? It wasn't too long ago, shortly after we fought to retrieve the Omega Key… Egypt, was it?" Bumblebee nodded, "Well, we battled and he brought me up to the _Nemesis_ for questioning."

Smokescreen covered his optics. "So that's how Megsy found out where our base was!"

Seven slumped, "Well, not exactly… I must not have spilled anything, so Megatron put a cortical psychic patch into my helm and found out that way."

"What do you mean, you don't remember?" Bumblebee asked.

"Of course he doesn't," Knock Out said hurriedly so the Seeker couldn't cut him off, "long story short, Megatron got him hammered in hopes of coaxing the location of our old base out of him."

"The fact of the matter is that it didn't work," Seven argued haughtily, "I know I don't have much of a tolerance for high grade, but what was I to do? Megatron could have terminated me! Would have, I imagine!"

Wheeljack, Bumblebee, and Smokescreen exchanged a look. It would've been hilarious had it not sounded so dire.

"What now?" Arcee drawled, pouring herself a cube of medium grade energon and came over, joining the others.

"We're just talking about a time about when a certain Seeker got wasted," Wheeljack smirked, "It's pretty entertaining."

"Not for me!" Said jet burst out, scowling, and took a drink from his cube in an attempt to stall the conversation.

"We can talk about something else, like, aside from drunk jets…" Smokescreen trailed off, receiving a few halfhearted chuckles.

"How about this," Arcee began, looking to Seven, "it's been niggling me, besides you and Dreadwing, why haven't I seen any more Seekers? I thought Megatron's army would be chock-full of you, no offense."

The Seeker's wings fluttered and he took a drink before responding, thinking it over while staring down into his cube. He looked up and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his helm. "Seekers like myself were common before the war, but generally speaking, we aren't the best of fighters…" he let a confident smirk grace his faceplates, "myself exempted, of course." Arcee rolled her optics. "To my knowledge, many were killed or simply went missing over the course of the war."

"I'm sorry," Bumblebee said.

Seven waved a servo, "Oh, don't be. It is unfortunate that our race, the Seekers, that is, is dwindling, but once we restore and reclaim Cybertron—" he downed the last of his cube, "—with a bit of luck, we'll become populous once again."

Wheeljack finished off his own and grabbed Seven's too, "Want some more?" he shook it, sending a few blue droplets flying.

The jet shrugged, "I don't see why not."

The Wrecker glanced back over his shoulder, "Speakin' of, what's up with Scream? When I saw him earlier, he didn't seem to be doing so hot."

"He died," Seven said bluntly, downcast.

Wheeljack blinked, "Oh."

"Sort-of." The Seeker added, tracing a finger over a ridge in the table. He slipped and gave up, looking up to meet the white mech's incredulous expression. "I brought him back, using the cyber-matter in the Omega Lock."

Wheeljack tossed him the cube, "Think fast."

Seven tried to catch it but fumbled and the cube fell onto the table, beginning to spill out. He hastily snatched it up and took a choking drink to make sure it wouldn't spill again. "Sorry, heh…" he trailed off and wiped at it, wings fluttering, "I'm not usually clumsy."

Knock Out took a sip from his own cube, "Hmm… that isn't really an uplifting topic. I know: what's the worst thing about Earth?"

"As if that's any better. Why do you ask?" Arcee drawled, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, "So we all have good reasons to tell the humans we're leaving for Cybertron. I need ideas."

Seven laughed sharply, "Oh, that's a good one! I'll think on it…" he smirked, "just gimme a minute."

Bumblebee swirled his cube, "War."

"Uh, Bee? War isn't just Earth's thing, in case you've forgotten." Smokescreen pointed out.

Seven unsheathed Valor from its place on his thruster, gripping its crossguard to negate the speed boost it bestowed. "I didn't have Megatron make this for nothin'," he said, twirling it in a few circles.

"Whoa, Sev. Could you not do that near me?" Wheeljack cut in, raising his servo. "I kinda like having all my limbs, but I can't speak for the others."

The Seeker sheathed it, nearly taking off half of the red crest on his helm in the process. "You aren't fun," he pouted dramatically.

"We'll see." the Wrecker's optics glinted mischievously.

The scout looked to the other white mech, "Smoke, I know that war exists outside of Earth. But just because it's elsewhere doesn't mean it's not also an earthly thing."

The white mech's optics seemed to say _suit yourself_. "Well, mine's speed limits."

Knock Out nodded, "We should have lunch sometime… oh, wait!" he clapped a servo to his helm, eliciting a couple snorts.

Seven chuckled, flapping his wings smugly and crossed his arms, becoming more animated. "At least _I_ don't have to contend with h-human traffic laws."

"Oh, Mr. High-And-Mighty, then what's yours? Air traffic? Birds?" Arcee gave him a look and took a sip from her own cube.

Seven struggled with his thoughts for a moment, "Ah… oh, I know: SAMs."

"What?" Knock Out, Smokescreen, and Wheeljack asked in unison. The others looked similarly stumped.

"Surface-to-air missiles. A nasty invention, one of the lows of humanity." He said, donning a serious expression.

"Is he joking?" Smokescreen whispered to Knock Out. The red mech shook his helm vigorously, and the room erupted in laughter.

Seven slapped the red mech's shoulder, grinning, "Course I'm joking, you slagger! 'Cee, what about you?"

"Can I only pick one?" She smirked, "I can't decide. Laggy Wi-Fi, probably."

"I'm with you on that," Wheeljack agreed. "Can't get anything done."

"Tell me about it!" Knock Out exclaimed, "I try to post a picture to Instagram, and then poof! No Internet!"

Seven rolled his optics, making sure he saw. "Oh, what a tragedy, dear d-doctor. Whatever happened to _robots in disguise_?"

"I didn't say they were of _me_ ," the red mech countered. "And you would know, you were plastered to every headline within a thousand miles of Los Angeles when you crashed into that building!"

Seven rolled his optics and chuckled, turning to Wheeljack. "You must keep the high-speed Internet to yourself on the _Jackhammer_ , am I right or what?"

The Wrecker smirked, "Maybe. How about you go find out? She's parked right outside this wreck."

The Seeker smirked, "Maybe I'll take you up on your earlier challenge, and the w-winner earns faster Wi-Fi."

"So you can do what, purchase a life off of eBay?" Arcee rolled her optics.

"Remind us?" Bumblebee asked, exchanging a glance with Smokescreen.

"Racing the _Jackhammer_." Wheeljack clarified. Seven got out of his seat and went back over to refill his energon cube, using the same tap the Wrecker had.

Ultra Magnus entered the mess hall and suddenly it was like the room's temperature noticeably dipped. Wheeljack frowned.

"Sir," Arcee greeted.

Seven wheeled around, trying to keep his cube under the tap. "General," he inclined his sleek helm in a gentle nod.

"Soldier," Magnus returned the gesture, and took up a spot behind the slender mech. The Seeker finished with the and turned it off with a sharp twist of the lever on the spout. He went back over to the others, weaving slightly with each step. Several bots' nervous optics fell onto the drink in the Seeker's servo. They all knew Magnus would deeply disapprove of their actions, and Seven already had a couple cubes of high grade in him without realizing it. But all they could do was watch and wait, hoping that Magnus would either miss it entirely or simply leave before he could. The slight mech sipped gently from the cube, unaware of the silent exchange.

"Sir," Wheeljack piped up, wishing to divert his attention, "what brings you here? I thought you and Ratch were busy."

"The doctor suggested that I vacate his presence in order to improve his concentration in his studies." The blue mech replied, leaving his drink untouched. "Might I ask what is happening here?"

Everyone that was looking at Seven immediately stopped doing it.

"We're just hanging out," Smokescreen finally said. Magnus looked slightly dubious, but let it lie.

Wheeljack jumped in, seizing the moment. "Sir, Sev and I were planning on going for a little flight, to see who's faster and all that." The white mech got up, making it clear to the Seeker that he meant now.

Seven glanced up at the white mech, drained about half of his cube at once and stood, grinning while still holding it. He held it high in a tipsy toast, "I'll indulge you, _Jackie_ , b-but as far as I'm concerned, I already won."

Suddenly there were three bots standing. "Soldiers," Magnus addressed the other two, "I will not tolerate riffraff from former Decepticons or deserters in this army, and that includes racing where the native population could easily view you."

"With all due respect, _sir_ ," Wheeljack retorted, "we're nowhere near the _native population_ , and I wasn't asking for your permission."

"I don't recall giving it to you," Magnus replied cooly. "Neither of you will be racing the other, is that understood?"

"What's the h-harm in it?" Seven asked, giving him a mock salute. "My alt mode looks… uh, like an Earth jet."

The blue mech's optics widened then narrowed, "Soldier," he stated gruffly, "you will not be going anywhere but straight to Optimus Prime."

Seven raised his cube cautiously, but Ultra Magnus knocked it out of his grasp and it clattered to the table, spilling the meager amount that remained. The Seeker reached for it instinctively and the blue mech grabbed his wrist.

"You don't need any more of that." He rumbled.

Seven's euphoria evaporated and he scrabbled at thes larger mech's grip, "Lemme go! I didn' do anything wr-wrong!"

Ultra Magnus looked into his optics; the jet's defenses were mostly down and he knew Seven believed what he was saying. He released the jet, who took several nervous steps back and watched the blue mech warily. The Seeker brushed off his arms, a slight wobble in his posture.

"Has Optimus returned yet?" Arcee asked, raising an eyebrow at Magnus, trying to change the subject.

"Seven can wait if he has not. He will not be going anywhere but to Optimus." The larger mech gave the Seeker a disdainful glare.

Seven returned the look, "I still dunno what the slag this's all about."

Ultra Magnus looked around sternly, asserting a stronger air of authority. "Would any of you care to explain?"

Bumblebee cleared his throat and smiled apologetically at the jet, grabbing his attention. "Sorry, Sev. You should probably do what Ultra Magnus says; you're drunk."

The Seeker's mouth opened then closed, and he leaned on the table for support. "What! So that's your excuse to g-get me out of here, is it?"

Wheeljack got up too and went over to the Seeker, putting an arm around his shoulder plates to steady him, which wasn't necessary. "I hate to say it, but Bee's not wrong, Sevvie. I'll take you to Optimus."

Seven pushed him away, nearly losing his balance in the process and his wings flared out to steady himself. "I can walk!"

Ultra Magnus stood straighter, "I suggest that you all escort him to our leader, so each of you can deliver your own explanation for why he is overcharged in the middle of the day."

Wheeljack gave him a disrespectful look, "I think that's overkill, _sir_. Besides, you can't order us around, we're on our lunch breaks. We were just having a bit of fun, what's the harm in it?"

"It is not up for debate, soldier." The general rumbled, frowning at the Wrecker.

The others exchanged a look and followed the duo out of the mess hall, abandoning their energon.

* * *

The world was spinning slowly on a single axis, sliding back a few feet every once in awhile only to twirl again. Overhead, the lights were too bright, sometimes gently expanding or contracting in my slightly blurred vision.

The floor twisted beneath me without warning. I stumbled over my own pedes, and groped at the not-so-helpful air for balance, fanning my wings.

"Careful, Sev. These floors are hard." Wheeljack chucked from behind me.

"I blame y-you for this, Wheeljack." I growled, steadying myself against the wall. "It's not my… uh, my fault tha' I'm a featherweight!"

Laughter bounced around the hallway behind me. "We're not judging you, Sevvie." Smokescreen's voice assured, still chuckling.

"Yeah," Knock Out agreed, suppressing a laugh. He whispered to the others and I somehow caught it, " _Did you see Magnus' faceplates when he got a second look at him?! HA! I'd give up a week's worth of energon to see that again!_ "

I spun around to confront the red mech and wound up staggering into him as the floor lurched beneath me. "Easy!" He exclaimed, "Primus, discounting that interrogation, I haven't seen you like this in forever!"

"St-Starscream," I corrected, scowling at myself as nausea made my tank roll. I stepped backwards, measuring each one carefully so I didn't slip and make even more of a fool of myself. "I've never been like this in forever."

Wheeljack clapped me on my thruster between my wings, "What do you say, you still up for a little race?"

I grinned, glad to think about something else. "Like you wouldn' believe. I'm the best flier there is, did you know that?"

Arcee came up beside me, "Uh, mechs? This idea might've had some merit earlier, but if you go flying now, Seven could _crash_." she enunciated.

"I said I'm the _b-best_!" I enunciated. "Stah graduated top of his class at the Cybertron War Ac-Academy, but I 'spect you don' get it. Flying is better than, uh, anything! Well," my brow creased in thought, "almost anything…" The others looked a bit uncomfortable, but my vision was still fuzzy and I couldn't be sure. "C'mon," I tottered onward, but reached a two-way intersection and stopped. "Uh… which way?"

The white mech led the way, taking a left. I followed with a weaving gait, somehow feeling less steady than I had earlier. Or did I? I frowned in concentration: even my reference frames were out of whack. And how exactly had I not noticed that I was overcharged before Bumblebee pointed it out?

"Well, I'll jus' have to pull through…" I muttered to myself.

Soon enough, we were outside. The sunlight was blinding enough that I had to shield my faceplates with my arms from the glaring rays. I turned around, lowering them enough to find that it was just Wheeljack and I now. _How had I missed everyone else leaving? And why, why did it have to be high grade?_

"You ready?" He asked, leaning against the _Jackhammer_ 's white hull.

I transformed, resting on my landing gear as the world did a rapid turn. "Yeah…" I felt ill, but the feeling was pushed down by the euphoric thought of taking to the skies.

He went into his ship and shortly after, it rose into the air just as several bots charged out of the _Harbinger_ , Optimus included.

"Seven, transform!" The Prime urged. "Do not take off!"

 _Oh, what do you know?_ I thought, and jetted into the air. The ground fell away beneath me and the bots on it shrank to insects. Wheeljack's ship materialized next to me and we stopped in midair by some unspoken agreement.

"On three: one…" the Wrecker began to count off, "two…"

My comm pinged and I automatically answered it. Wheeljack, noticing my momentary distraction, paused in his countdown. "Seven, what you are doing places you and even Wheeljack in grave peril." Optimus' voice warned, "Please, do not trust your own judgement. Land, do not try to–" I switched the link off and did a corkscrew for good measure. The sky and ground sloshed together, swirling into a brownish-blue smoothie before separating again as I leveled out. Wheeljack apparently took my sudden motion as a cue to get the show on the road and the _Jackhammer_ blasted forwards, buffeting me sideways. I fell into an uncontrolled barrel roll and my tank dropped. The dizziness was bad enough that it became a challenge to bring some semblance of order to my thoughts through the high grade's effects.

I twisted around in the air and adjusted my ailerons, which did the trick. Once I was fairly certain which way was up once again, I raced off after the _Jackhammer_. I was still high enough to not have to worry about rocky outcroppings, but the world sometimes careened to one side. When that happened, I skidded through the sky towards the hard ground like a tether was jerking me down in an unpredictable ocean current.

Gritting my denta, I sped up, closing in on Wheeljack's ship. I was a knife cleaving the air, held by someone with a slippery grip. The _Jackhammer_ swerved left abruptly, diving. In a struggle to keep up, I executed the same maneuver but overshot and entered a tight barrel roll. I tried to straighten myself out this time, but I veered far to the right, and the world suddenly was spinning in a way I couldn't control.

"Hey, Sevvie? You all right?" Wheeljack's voice crackled over my comm. "You're flying like you're flirting with death over there."

Everything was happening so fast, like my clock was skipping every other tick. The air weighed heavily on my wings and I tried to slow my descent with my flaps, only managing to flip myself end-over-end. The sun whirled around me, it was so bright, glaringly so, like it was trying to use its gravity to whip me off the planet and into space. My tank tugged as I felt the familiar feeling of freefall and I finally got control of my spin, adjusting my flaps the right way.

"The sky's too slippery," I slurred, beginning to panic, "I can' hold onto it…"

The ground was coming up so fast, was it supposed to do that? It looked very solid but was inflating like a balloon, rushing up to meet me. Voices were shouting and vehicles transformed into bots beneath me, horror and shock on their upturned faceplates. I tried to make out exactly who was who, but my vision swam with shapeless blobs that distorted everything they passed through.

A white blur passed beside me and I let my wheels pop out of my fuselage: I was in for a landing. The blur smashed into me and pulled up hard, also pulling several g's. My right wing was hooked on it and I was jerked upwards as the blobs coalesced on the edges of my vision, growing larger and blacker. It seemed that we were falling upwards in slow motion.

"Whee—!" I squealed ecstatically before the world dissolved.


	36. 36 - Questions

XXXVI - Questions

 _A few hours later…_

Ratchet leaned closer to the screen in front of his faceplates, performing a manual check of Starscream's systems. It wasn't necessary because the machines hooked up to the Seeker did it automatically and constantly, but it put the medic at ease, providing the illusion that he was doing something productive. However, it soon was clear that nothing had changed with the mech.

He let out a sigh, "Just another day…" but the Seeker's clone stirred on the berth beside him. "Seven?" Ratchet asked quietly, going over to his side. Optimus sat next to silver mech and leaned forwards, setting his servo on top of the Seeker's.

Seven's fingers twitched and his mouth opened slightly, then his optics came online at a dim setting. He blinked, meeting the red mech's warm gaze.

"How are you feeling?" the Prime asked with concern painted over his faceplates.

Seven pushed himself into a sitting position while running a quick systems check, looking bleary and confused. "Never better, just tired…" he trailed off, brow creasing, "I'm hardly surprised to find myself here once again… but, heh, what happened, dare I ask?"

Ratchet ran a rag over one of his tools, "Try to remember."

The Seeker took that in silence and began sifting through his drives for his most recent memories. "Hm, we were having lunch and talking about nothing in particular. I think it was Knock Out who asked us of what we dislike most about this planet…" he checked another couple files before continuing, "let's see, I said mine was surface-to-air missiles, which is mostly true." he added, smirking and wings flitting. "The others got a kick out of that. The young doctor and Arcee mentioned something about Wi-Fi, but I think the femme was jesting." I frowned in thought, "Wheeljack wanted me to race him, and I did, except the air felt heavy and I was light… or maybe it was the other way around… Primus—I couldn't control myself." Seven nervously clenched a fist and opened it, moving his fingers individually to make sure they obeyed his commands.

"You tell him," Ratchet said to the Prime. "I will go find Wheeljack, _so I can stick a wrench in his audial_."

Optimus nodded. Seven raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Well?"

"Wheeljack gave you a bit too much high grade, and then proceeded to challenge you to race his ship in the air." The red mech said. The jet let it sink in and a tremble ran through his frame.

"I–I crashed, didn't I?" Seven whimpered.

The Prime smiled sadly, "You would have. Wheeljack used the _Jackhammer_ to catch you in a maneuver that many other bots would not have been able to pull off. You are very lucky."

The small Seeker wore a look like a bird that had just fallen from its nest and had no idea how to get back up. "This is my fault, I know I can't handle high grade." He stood on the other side of the berth, facing away from the Prime and rubbed his arms. "I should never have touched that cube in the first place, I don't even know how many I had!"

Optimus stood as well and went over to the Seeker, bending to bring himself level with his faceplates. "Seven," he said gently, "it is not your fault. Wheeljack made a poor decision and the others should not have let him get you overcharged, certainly not to have raced him."

"You can't just blame everything on him," Seven countered, wings low. "I should have paid more attention to what I had been doing… that way, this mess wouldn't have happened in the first place."

"As an Autobot, have you ever had any reason to distrust Wheeljack?" Optimus asked. "It was not your fault, do not hold yourself accountable. You cannot be judged for your actions because you did not know what you were doing, and it was not your intent to be in that state."

 _He thinks I was more inebriated than I actually was_ , Seven realized. "I… I knew what I was doing," he choked on the words, "I just failed to recognize the consequences of my actions…" he trailed off, wings sinking further as he sat back down onto the berth.

"Prime is right, Sev." Wheeljack's voice startled the Seeker, and its owner entered the room. "I did save your tail fins, but this one's on me. I was just having a bit of fun, 'cept I didn't think you'd nosedive. Sorry."

Seven's wings snapped up. "It was hardly enjoyable on my end. 'Sorry' doesn't quite cut it."

"You said yourself that you're the best flier there is, and what's the harm in a little race?"

The Seeker's mouth ran dry. "I… my judgement was impaired! I didn't think I would nosedive either, yet here we are."

"You feelin' better?" The Wrecker asked after a moment of silence. "The others are worried, but the doc hasn't let them in here. He must've thought it'd be humiliating for you, but now there's a bunch of rumors flying around. The docs just wheeled you back inside and locked the doors."

"How considerate of him. You wouldn't believe the number of times I've woken up on a med berth without knowing how I got there," the silver mech muttered, "it's been getting old. To answer your question: yes, I'm fine. Well, I am better than I was. Ah, where exactly _is_ everyone else?"

Optimus smiled, "We're glad that you did not sustain any injuries." The red mech went over and opened the doors Wheeljack had come in through, and Seven craned his neck cables to see. Every other Autobot was there, the humans included, even Magnus stood at the threshold, surprisingly. Only Fowler wasn't present.

Ratchet shouldered his way in through the small crowd of bots, careful to not tread on any of the humans. "There is hardly room to intake in here, let alone bend one's elbows." The medic complained gruffly. The others filtered in behind him, keeping a cautious distance from the humans. They all saw the Seeker sitting on the edge of the berth, looking overwhelmed.

"What's this?" he asked quietly, a faint smile flickering on his faceplates.

Bumblebee spoke up first, "Ratch wouldn't let us in. We all thought you were injured or worse…"

"You didn't bring flowers," Seven pouted.

"So… you're not hurt?" Bulkhead asked.

The Seeker huffed and got off the berth, "The only thing of mine that's been wounded is my pride," he frowned at Wheeljack.

The Wrecker raised his servos apologetically, "Hey, I said I was sorry."

"'Sorry' doesn't save lives," Seven argued haughtily.

"Quick thinking does," the white mech countered.

The silver mech scowled, "I've had enough." With that, he transformed and shot out of the ship into open air before anyone could protest. _Might as well go scout for energon to make myself useful,_ he thought, frowning to himself. _Our reserves are running low again as it is, with all the fighting of late._

* * *

Airachnid transformed and landed silently on the uppermost deck of the _Nemesis_ , which was more of a landing strip than anything else. She strode forwards slowly, taking control of the mind of an Insecticon aboard the warship, and checked its memories to confirm her suspicions.

"Bring him to me," the black femme purred.

Belowdecks, a lone Insecticon entered the medical bay, half of which had become Shockwave's lab. The purple cyclops himself was nowhere to be found, the Insecticon noticed as his gaze settled upon the only other mech in the room.

"CYLAS," he growled in the garbled tones of his species.

The mangled blue mech's working optic watched him warily. "What… do you want… from me?"

"My queen wants to speak with you in person," the Insecticon growled, and broke the heavy cuffs binding the blue mech's wrists and ankles to the berth with ease. CYLAS, dumbfounded, got off the berth and flexed his fist, feeling rushing back into his limbs.

He looked up at the Insecticon, "You won't be taking me anywhere." The scarred mech activated his shoulder cannon and shot the him in the faceplates with a blast of plasma. He did it a couple more times just to be sure the bug was dead, and rushed out of the med bay.

No sooner than the doors had closed behind the blue mech, six Insecticons charged him. CYLAS transformed, a feeling that was still strange to him, and wheeled around, shooting down the opposite hallway. From another branching off to his right, more Insecticons flooded into the hallway, cutting him off.

The blue mech transformed back into his bot mode and raised his fists, powering up his shoulder cannon. But soon enough, he was overwhelmed by the Insecticons' sheer numbers even though they weren't harming him.

Yet.

* * *

"CYLAS…" Airachnid trailed off, positioning one of the tips of her Insecticon legs under his neck cables, "I believe we had a deal, in which you and I would work together and split the spoils."

"That was a long time ago, Airachnid, and even then, it was only until the arrangement no longer was mutually beneficial," the blue mech argued.

"Then why duck out when it wasn't?" She asked innocently, circling him like a cat toying with its prey.

"MECH had other resources to pursue," he replied cooly.

"Such as what? Or should I say _whom_?" The black femme pried.

"Ask Starscream or Breakdown."

"I suggest you answer me, because I would enjoy tearing you apart more than I did with him,"she purred acidly.

CYLAS hadn't expected that. "You were the one who… _dismantled_ Breakdown."

She gave him a sweet smile, "But it seems that I gave you a new life through taking his, Silas."

"What do you want from me?" He growled, eyeing the femme.

Her Insecticon legs transformed away and she stood on two pedes again, her back facing the disfigured mech. "Oh, not much. What did you mention about that flighty Seeker?"

 _Nothing yet_ , CYLAS thought to himself.

"I caught a glimpse of a grave outside the Autobots' base, and it appears that dear Starscream will not be flying anywhere."

"That was MECH's doing." The blue mech gave her a look.

She smirked, "Getting your hands on Breakdown's remains wasn't enough for you, was it?"

"Air superiority would be a giant leap forward for MECH. Out of all you _Cybertronians_ with flight capabilities, MECH has had the opportunity to see what made Starscream tick. But why," he growled, "are you here for me?"

She gave him a sideways look, "Oh, I'm not here for you. I'm here for Megatron, and unless if I am mistaken, you will join me and my Insecticons to repay him for what he has done to us."

"Take me to Starscream's chassis and then we have a deal."

"I can take you to his five clones, but what will I get out of it?" The black femme purred, examining the tips of her talons.

The disfigured blue mech drew himself up, commanding her attention. "Four more capable, highly-trained soldiers and eight sets of guns to point at Megatron."

Airachnid pretended to consider it. "If, for a second I thought that we needed _more_ of Starscream and didn't have enough of an army already, I might have considered it. Besides, he was always so flighty, so flashy, with nothing beneath the surface. Always like a little moth: flitting around aimlessly and flirting with death."

"Then why enlist my help?" CYLAS countered.

"We share a common goal," the spider replied cooly, "and my Insecticons are mere puppets. If something were to happen to me, their queen, they would heed Megatron's every word."

The blue mech digested that. "My men will follow my orders regardless."

"Your point?" She prodded.

"We can catch Megatron with his guard down, and we have an advantage already: he knows Starscream is offline and in no way will expect us."

"An intriguing proposal," she hummed. "Follow me."

CYLAS glanced at one of the tires on his chassis, "How, exactly?"

A pair of Insecticons stepped up behind him.

* * *

"What's up, doc?" Smokescreen asked, leaning forwards on a table. "You're keeping us waiting."

"Smoke's just impatient," Arcee gave the white mech a disapproving look. "Take your time."

Ratchet scrolled through a few medical records, and selected one, pulling up a picture of a familiar silver Seeker. "While Seven was unconscious, I conducted a handful of minor scans of his systems, just for high grade concentration, actuator coordination, I'm sure you get the idea. However, when I overlapped the data, I discovered that there is a large anomaly surrounding—perhaps even within his very spark."

"Have you determined what it is?" Ultra Magnus asked.

"No," Ratchet frowned, "and because it appears to occupy a portion of his spark, I cannot tamper with it without facing potentially dire consequences."

"Wait, back up. You said a second ago that it's around his spark, now you're saying it's inside of the thing?" Bulkhead exclaimed, confusion clouding his features.

Knock Out leaned over the other medic's shoulder plate, "Sure seems that way from here. It's inside his spark, almost appears to be a… part… of… it…" the red mech trailed off, staring at the screen in astonishment.

"What?" Several bots asked in unison.

"Call him back here. We need perform further scans on his spark and its chamber." Knock Out declared. "If this is what I think it is…"

"What is it?" Arcee pried.

"I can't say without further evidence," he answered vaguely.

"Answer her, doctor." Ultra Magnus said firmly.

"I said I _can't_ ," Knock Out persisted.

"Uh, are we going to tell him about this, whatever it is?" Bumblebee asked, looking to Optimus.

"I think we should hold off until we know more, then break it to him." Arcee stated, crossing her arms.

"What's it doing?" Wheeljack asked, glancing at Ratchet. "I mean, it isn't hurting him, so why not just leave the thing?"

"The virus Starscream contracted didn't appear to be harming him at the beginning either," Ratchet countered. "Whatever is inside Seven's spark may have yet to afflict him if it has a progressive nature."

"Can you find out if it does?" Oliver asked, wringing his hands.

"Hence the scans," Arcee reasoned, raising a servo while looking to the pair of doctors.

The white medic nodded, "Arcee is correct, but to answer Bumblebee, no. Telling Seven this now will only strain him, and I do need to gather more information on the integrity of his spark while doing so without raising alarm."

"Doc, I think he can take it." Bulkhead huffed. "Sev's been through a lot, and most wasn't pretty." His optics fell onto Starscream's comatose form, sustained by an army of machines, "I think that Pit would be a vacation for what he's been through. Besides, we don't even know if it's something bad yet, right?"

All heads and helms turned to the green mech. "He has a point," Will agreed.

"Please, elaborate," Optimus requested.

The boy came forwards, "I mean, Ratch, you stitched him back from pieces when we got that sliver of Megatron's metal, and he's still fighting. Ollie and I've been with him longer than any of you have, and I know he hasn't given up. It's not too hard to see that he's fighting for Starscream." Everyone looked to the supine jet. "Scream called him his brother before he died, I can't imagine what that must've been like for Sev."

Silence reigned for a few long seconds, then Miko and Oliver started clapping. Will awarded the pair a deep, sarcastic bow.

"You make a strong argument," Ultra Magnus acknowledged, "but until we know what is is, _precisely_ , withholding this information is in the unit's best interest."

"Agreed," Optimus nodded, asserting himself, "we will not cause Seven grief when there may not be a real reason for it."

"Each of you heard the general," Magnus said, radiating a familiar air of authority, "no one is to breathe a word of this to the Seeker."

A few bots and humans grumbled to themselves. "One person can keep a secret, but not two. And there are how many of us here? Someone's bound to let something slip eventually," Jack pointed out. Ultra Magnus gave him a stern look and the boy raised his hands, "Hey, I'm just saying."

"Jack's right," Bumblebee agreed, "but we don't need to hide it from him forever."

"Yeah," Smokescreen jumped in, "once Ratch here gets those scans done, we can spill the beans."

Said medic met the other white mech's optics, "I hope so."

* * *

"Airachnid!" I exclaimed under my vocalizer, dumbfounded, watching as the black femme transformed a couple hundred meters in front of me. She landed more gracefully than the swarm of Insecticons behind her did, two of which carried what looked like…

"CYLAS, we have arrived."

"I failed to notice," the blue mech remarked sarcastically, dropping out of the Insecticons' grip and landed on the ground in a puff of dust and leaves. "Where are they?"

The spider swept her gaze around and I shrunk back, watching her warily from behind a few trees, not quite processing what was happening. Last I checked, Breakdown was mounted on Silas' wall like some grotesque trophy, and Airachnid was locked up in our base—the one I reduced to rubble—in stasis in a similar fashion. We surmised that she had perished in the explosion, however, apparently the stasis pod encapsulating her was strong enough to withstand the blast.

We should have gone back and checked the site, no doubt. Slag, I was there, I should have known. But after finding "Optimus" in the rubble, it was just too much. And Airachnid had called Breakdown something… CYLAS.

"Silas…" different name, different body, but the same twisted person. "You survived, and are working with that glitch?" It didn't seem that insane of an idea, once I got over the fact that they both should be dead. It was a complete slap in the faceplates. Speaking of… this was the very place where we had battled the femme and her armada of Insecticons all those months ago, and where my fellow brethren perished in the fray. Before departing, we had "buried" them just past the mouth of the cave, a rushed affair because there were injuries that needed to be tended to and the clones hadn't lived more than an hour or two. We had laid Two to rest with them, it even though he had attacked Starscream. I was grateful that my double hadn't viewed me to be as expendable as them.

"Fan out," Airachnid ordered the Insecticons, "find their chassis and bring them to me."

"The other clones?" I breathed, slowly unsheathing Valor from its place between my wings. The action was more to grant me a feeling of security than anything, there was no way that I would be able to take them all on at once, unless if I had the Spark Extractor.

"Queen," an Insecticon called, mandibles clicking. My tank dropped: it had found the other clones.

Airachnid supposedly issued a mental order for the other Insecticons to stay behind and approached the mouth of the cave with CYLAS in tow. A few Insecticons went over and dragged the five chassis out into the light, and it wasn't a pretty sight.

The blue mech was deeply aggravated, "You told me that you would bring me to Starscream's clones, not this trash heap!"

My servos balled into fists.

"CYLAS," Airachnid purred, facing him. "I never said they would be intact, what did you expect?" She turned away and shook her helm lightly, "You humans are always just so feeble-minded."

The scarred mech growled, "I expected chassis that would not require assembly."

My comm link suddenly pinged. I answered it out of instinct, hissing, "What is it? I am in the middle of something here!"

"Seven, please return to the base." Optimus said. "Ratchet wishes you to perform something for him."

"Prime, please, have Smokescreen or Wheeljack, just someone else do it for him."

"We cannot do that."

"What can you do?" I snapped.

"Seven, you will return to base. I shall send a ground bridge." He commanded.

My wings flared up, "No! Wait–I can explain!"

The link cut out, and suddenly I realized that I had been talking in a tone much louder than a whisper.

Airachnid send an Insecticon over to investigate, and it was almost upon me. I loathed the idea of leaving my five brethren at the servos of these desecrators, but I had no choice. I sprang straight up into the air and transformed, catching a glimpse of the other clones' chassis. I gulped and entered a vertical climb, pushing my thruster.

"Do not pursue him, we have what we need…" Airachnid's voice faded away.

* * *

 **A/N: Seven needs bug spray.**


	37. 37 - Answers

XXXVII - Answers

"Here we are," CYLAS declared, stepping inside the hangar. The lights flickered and burned to life, glaring down onto the pair of bots. "Establishing ourselves in this location is the safest course of action for the moment, and my men will restore the clones' chassis in no time."

Airachnid cued five of the Insecticons to enter, bearing said Seekers' mutilated chassis. "Then where might your _men_ be at? We need to work swiftly, so we may catch Megatron with his guard down."

"They are in the sublevels of this complex, preparing the needed tools to fix these machines." He replied cooly. "This arrangement will see its purpose soon enough."

"I will decide when 'soon enough' is truly soon enough, CYLAS. If your soldiers come to fruition before the end of tomorrow, we shall strike. If not, well, I'm sure you know that I do not enjoy being kept waiting." The black femme purred, drawing herself up with her spider legs.

The scarred mech drew even with her, "MECH works quickly, my men will not disappoint."

"Then what, exactly, is your idea?" She prodded, examining the hangar.

"I'm afraid you will have to wait and see," he sneered.

Airachnid went over and stopped right in front of him, leaning into his faceplates. "Have you forgotten that I command an army of Insecticon warriors? You will answer my question, CYLAS, while I'm asking nicely. Or I might just become the new leader of MECH."

"Follow me. I'll show you."

* * *

 _Later…_

I sat on my berth, lost in thought. Unlike our old base, the _Harbinger_ had plenty of space for everyone in its interior. As such, everyone had their own room, with some to spare. During the night, Knock Out had insisted upon performing a few autonomous scans of my systems for some reason he didn't think worth sharing. I wasn't sure how long I had been puzzling over this, staring at the same chipped spot on the dark wall.

"Something is troubling you," Optimus' deep voice remarked from the threshold of my room.

I started and whirled around. "This is what I get for leaving the door open, hm?"

"I did not mean to intrude. May I come in?"

I nodded, and he took a seat beside me. "That was undeserved," I apologized.

"I'm glad you recognized it," the Prime gave me a faint smile.

"Couldn't recharge?" I asked after a momentary silence, wincing as the silence shattered.

"I wanted to see how you are doing," he replied. "Will you join me outside?"

I cleared my vocalizer, "I don't see why not…" I stood and left my room. We began to walk down the halls together, I had to walk faster to keep up with his long strides. It felt uncannily like I was beside Megatron.

"Might I ask what the purpose of Knock Out's so-called scans on my chassis were?" I asked, wanting to distance myself from unwanted thoughts.

"He did not consider the information to be worth sharing."

"That was a fast answer," my optics narrowed slightly and I slowed my pace.

He stopped, facing me. "Seven, I am not trying to decieve you. The medics have not shared their thoughts with me or the rest of us."

I huffed, "I didn't think that _everyone_ would be kept in the dark on this, whatever it is…" I trailed off.

We emerged from the _Harbinger_ into the cool desert night. The sky above our helms was an inky, midnight blue splattered with stars, the moon a smiling crescent high above. Optimus scaled a stack of boulders off the rear end of the ship and once he got to the top, reached a servo down to me. I was struck with déjà vu for a second, remembering the time when I had been trapped in the rubble of a building and he had extended a servo much like this. Except this time, he was well out of my reach.

I glanced down at my pointed pedes, "These aren't built for climbing." But then an idea struck me. "Backing up might be a good idea," I cautioned.

He stood and took a couple steps backwards and vanished from my view. "I am ready."

With a blast from my thruster, I sprang into the air and landed beside the Prime, grabbing his outstretched arm to steady myself. "Thanks."

Optimus nodded and released me. I took a seat, resting my arms on my knees. He sat beside me, not uncomfortably close, but not too distant either.

"What are your thoughts?" I probed, looking to him.

"Ratchet and Knock Out have led us to believe that there is an anomaly with your spark."

"You said you didn't know anything." I reminded cooly and my wings vibrated.

"That is the extent of what the doctors shared." He added. "They believe that whatever is affecting your spark may well be inside or even a part of it."

I threw my servos into the air, "Why, oh _why_ does this sound so similar to the time you broke the news of the virus to Starscream?"

He laid a large, gentle servo on my shoulder plate. "Seven, this circumstance is very different. No one, not even the doctors believes its presence is necessarily one of malignance."

"It is one thing to believe, quite another to know. And the fact that the doctors are hiding something pushes me to think that they _do_ know, but are omitting it for my sake," I growled. "Do they think I can't take the news?" I shivered, suddenly feeling cold as if a breeze had just rushed past. "I just want answers, is that so hard?"

"We all do." He agreed. "However, if the medics are withholding information, I am sure it is for an important reason. Unless if it endangers you or anyone else, they have a right to keep it to themselves."

I flexed my wings, stretched my arms and laid on my back with them crossed behind my helm, staring up at the sky. The stars and fuzzy smear that was the Milky Way, edge-on, gave the appearance that a sea of bubbling pitch was floating above us. "I suppose they do, but do I not have a right to know about what is happening with my very spark?" I asked pointedly.

"I cannot force them to tell you."

"You're our leader, you can force us do whatever you want!" I burst out.

"If I did, would I be any better than Megatron?" He said quietly.

My wings dropped at the realization. "I'm sorry… there's just so much going on right now."

For a long, silent moment, the only sound was the gentle throbbing of my spark in my audials. It was a daunting task to realize that a simple sphere of energy was what kept me going, all Cybertronians going, and without it, well, we wouldn't be much different than a supercomputer.

Optimus brushed away the silence, "I am planning on having a summit with Megatron at some point this coming day or the next."

My voice fell to a whisper, "You're really going through with it, aren't you?"

"If we want to achieve lasting peace, we have no other choice."

"For once, Prime," I said quietly, revering the silence, "I wish you were wrong."

* * *

"I know I said that I would be waiting, but was it really necessary for you to take so _long_?" I crossed my arms, leaning against an invisible wall as I examined the tips of my talons on one servo.

Seven whirled around at the sound of my voice. "I can't recharge all the time, it will be suspicious, not to mention tiresome. Is there a reason I'm here?"

I frowned, "What, not happy to see me?"

My double mirrored me, something he could do quite well, "You misunderstand, what I mean is that it seems these dreams I'm having appear to occur randomly, unless if you hold some control over them."

I raised my servos, "None that I'm aware of."

"Hm…" he mused, "did you know the doctors are hiding something from all of us?"

I raised an eyebrow, "You are keeping these dreams secret as well, so you tell me."

"They think that some foreign entity is occupying a portion of my spark." He stated matter-of-factly.

I blinked in surprise. "And they haven't said what it is or what it's doing?"

"Either they don't know or think that I will have a meltdown if they tell me."

"Those are not good prospects," I agreed. "Does any of it have to do with me?"

Miffed, he huffed, "Why would it?"

"It's just that strange things have been happening lately, such as the fact that I'm supposed to be dead, but here I am." I waved my arms at my chassis. "In fact, this is probably just a mental projection of what I was used to."

"You think that whatever is in my spark is a part of this mess?"

I shrugged, "It's as good of an idea as any. I did meet my past self again, and I think it is safe to say that that first time wasn't just some–" I waved a servo to help the words along, "one-time occurence."

"Oh, there haven't been many of those," my clone muttered dryly, his wing fluttering. "Well, what happened?"

I smirked, "Allow me to show you."

* * *

The blackness of the dreamscape melted away and a scene appeared beneath our pedes like we were watching through a glass floor. I grinned at Seven, my wings fluttering in anticipation. "It's something, isn't it?"

We stood above a dark room which was bare, save for a desk and plain chairs, one behind the desk, two in front. The me from not-so-long-ago leaned against the side of the desk, watching the closed door. Time was hard to gauge in here, I wasn't sure if it had happened hours or days ago.

"It's something," Seven agreed, staring down through wide optics.

All of a sudden, the door irised open and the past Starscream below us stood straighter.

"This happened only a short while ago," I said from beside my clone. "It ended right before I was pulled into your dream."

"Kicking and screaming, weren't you?" he jibed. I pushed him, fending off a smirk. A sudden movement caught our attention below, and a shadow with large wings fell over the floor and waited, giving off the feeling of intense anxiety.

"General, sir? You needed to see me?" The younger version of myself asked.

"Is this one of your memories?" My clone asked, looking to me.

"It resembled one at the time, but no." I answered, gaze unwavering from the scene below our pedes. "Similar things had happened at the Academy, but none resembling anything as weird as this."

The dreaming version of myself stepped over the threshold and the door immediately shut behind him and melted into the wall, leaving no trace of its existence behind. He whirled around, but saw it had vanished. His scarlet optics widened.

"This isn't funny, whoever you are!" he said shrilly, "Stop this nonsense! I'm sure you have better things to be doing!"

The more recent me that was leaning against the desk straightened up and uncrossed his arms, "Actually…" he trailed off, and the other, younger Starscream let out a quiet whimper, backing into the wall as his wings flattened. "You do not."

Seven looked at me, disbelief etched into his features. "Wh-how are we viewing this?"

"They are my memories," I replied. "I'm not sure how it works, but I discovered my ability to do this not too long ago."

"To show me scenes from your memories?" He prodded, catching on.

I nodded.

"So we are watching a dream of yours, during one of mine?"

I blinked, "Well, it… yes. Don't make this more confusing than it already is."

I mentally scrolled though a few files and selected the relevant ones of this dream. On cue, the scene beneath us changed abruptly and now the pair of Seekers were in slightly different places. It took me no time to identify who was who, or more like who was from _when_. Seven seemed to have a bit more difficulty with it, but I pointed them out and he nodded. The older Starscream was gripping the younger's wrist tightly, stopping his servo and poised talon just above his thigh plating.

"Fine! Fine! Just stop! You cannot fathom how important this is!" He exclaimed, squeezing his wrist.

"Oh?" The younger one mocked, shaking off his grip. "And what happened to me? Start from the beginning, because _I_ deserve to hear every last detail." he growled, wings vibrating with an anger that he didn't try to hide.

Seven shook himself, pulling my attention away from the pair below us. "You didn't tell him what was happening, did you?"

"Watch," I urged.

The more recent me raised his servos slightly, looking apologetic. "I… ah… can't do that."

I gave Seven a look but he was too busy watching the dream unfold beneath us, rapt. "I told you so."

"Shh!"

"WHAT?" The younger me screeched, throwing his servos up in frustration. "You just _appear_ out of the blue, say you're me from the future, drop a few more cryptic bombshells and then beg for my help?!" The other me wilted, beneath his abrasive words, "WELL YOU CAN GO FRAGGING HELP YOURSELF! I HAVE ENOUGH PROBLEMS TO DEAL WITH AT PRESENT AS IT IS!" A servo clenched my spark and I knew full well that the more recent me felt the same way, looking hurt. The younger me's tone dropped to a furious whisper, "So you can go pack up your future aft and jump back into the next millennium! Leave me out of this!"

Seven grabbed my shoulder plate, giving me a sympathetic look.

"Please, Star, you don't understand. I've never been more desperate, and I say that knowing full well what you're going through now—what I went through." Recent me begged, his tone sliding up an octave. "I can't tell you what will happen, but we have to change it. This is bigger than just the shrink ray, or your wings, even your T-Cog!" Older me burst out. "And for the record, the present for me is a year in the future for you." His wings drooped and mine had as well, lubricant welling up in the corners of his optics. He did look just as hopeless as I remembered. "Star," he said hurriedly, taking advantage of the younger's silence, "I don't know how I managed to contact you. It happened once before, and I tried to give you a heads-up. Prove me wrong, and then say I have a screw loose. After all, you're only saying the same about yourself." He was angry now but I was biting my lip, feeling the full weight of everything that had transpired here beginning to sink in. After all, it wasn't too long ago on my side of things. "I don't need you to believe me. I just need you to do what I tell you to do!"

"And why would I _ever_ do that?" The younger me spat, scowling.

"Because the only bot or person you trust is yourself. I am you, therefore: _trust me_!"

The younger me scowled.

"You have to promise me that you will not, _NOT_ retrieve your T-Cog from Silas, no matter what!"

He blinked, "That's absurd!"

"Promise me, promise me," I whimpered, "just do it you idiot, please…" I fell to my knees and out of Seven's arms, watching in horror.

The more recent me stepped up into the younger one's faceplates, "Promise me. PROMISE ME!" Younger me flinched, speechless. Recent me was panicking, his intakes coming in shallow pants. " _Would you rather–_ "

"Die?" I breathed, knowing that the younger me had just jerked awake. The dreamscape faded, replaced by the same dark void. "I couldn't stop myself from retrieving my T-Cog." My chassis shook, "I-I was so shortsighted. I thought that once I got the shrink ray and my wings back, everything would b-be fine… but it only caused more problems… and I warned myself!" I moaned, "You just saw! I could have showed him what it was like, being stuck on that berth for days, feeling life slipping through my fingers like soup through a fork… and now this void…" I choked and wiped my optics, "How did I expect to save you, to have us save an entire planet when I couldn't even save myself!"

Seven slowly lowered himself down beside me, "Blame CYLAS, blame Megatron, blame me, I don't care. It was anyone's fault _but_ yours."

"If I hadn't lost my T-Cog to begin with…" I trailed off as an idea began to dawn on me.

"What?" My clone prodded.

I wiped at my optics again, suddenly filled with hope. "What if—what if I were to visit one of my past self's dreams and tell myself not to work with MECH in the first place?"

Seven tapped his chin in thought, "That might work, however, if memory serves, you said that you have no control of which dream you drop into on or when you do. Even if you somehow were pulled into the perfect moment, who's to say that you will be able to convince yourself? You failed to do so this time, why would circumstances be any different with MECH?"

"My thanks for the continued support," I growled and felt the tips of my wings brush the floor. "Worse yet, what if my past self's mind simply _can't_ be changed? Getting my size and flight capabilities restored were the main reasons I continued to live then, and taking that away…"

"Lands you here even sooner," my clone finished darkly.

I dropped my helm into my servos, the sudden burst of hope having left as fast as it came in. "Why does everything have to go in circles!? If altering the past can't work, what can we do?"

"If we can't change the past, we have to fix the present. And who knows what will happen, or will have happened if you alter history?" He pointed out. "I have a feeling that we were onto something earlier with whatever is happening to my spark."

We suddenly found ourselves sitting on the edge of the butte that was our old base, except it wasn't in ruin. As I looked around and then down, I saw a throng of bots loosely crowded not far from the base of the mesa. I recognized all of them: Team Prime. And on my right side, Seven's wings had fallen flat.

"No, I don't want you to see this…" he whispered, and the sky seemed to darken.

"What?" I asked warily. I could make out my double sitting on the ground by the red stripes on his large wings, holding… "Is that me?" I breathed. Seven didn't answer, a grim air settling down over him.

A yellow mech—Bumblebee—went over to my double and laid a servo on his shoulder plate, trying to separate him from me by the look of it. I looked at my double beside me, my emotions in turmoil. He didn't meet my optics.

[Sev… ] my audials barely picked up the scout's chirp on the ground. My chassis fell out of my double's arms and Seven stayed on the ground, wings lower than I thought they could go, shaking with silent sobs.

"Sev…" I echoed, facing him. What could I say? _I_ was the one who had died, and that was months ago. "I know you aren't over this and it's been horrible for me as well. You said we can fix it, but only if we stop dwelling on the past."

"What can we do?" he murmured, not meeting my optics. "We're merely a pair of broken bots, one of which isn't even alive anymore."

"I am on some level, how else would I be talking to you?" I retorted, hating how hopeless he sounded. "We have had this conversation before, and I refuse to continue it."

"Primus knows what could be happening," he countered, still watching the scene below us that I had tuned out. "I-I must have faulted some circuitry at the time, because nothing made sense for days, even weeks after you passed. To the others, I looked like I had gone mad. Maybe I did for a time… but what if it persists? What if you're some hallucination that's chasing me, haunting me…" he trailed off and I could instantly tell that all his mental guards were up.

My wings snapped up, " _Haunting_ you, is it now? Then explain how I continue to exist outside of your dreams."

"So, I'm not insane?"

"No." I agreed, "You are a tiny bubble of sanity in a sea of madness."

I turned my attention back to the scene below us and sprang off the butte without a second thought, executing a flip for good measure. "Starscream!" Seven exclaimed.

"Follow me!" I shouted back, using my thruster to slow my fall, and landed at the base of the rock, jogging over to the bots. As I expected, none of them noticed me. I stopped beside Ratchet, who was putting what looked like an AED back into his medical kit.

Seven came up beside me and waved his servo through Ratchet's armor. "Hm, it _looks_ so real."

"Don't all dreams?" I replied, watching as Bulkhead walked straight through Seven, startling him, and over to my clone's past self, still on the ground, staring at my dead chassis. "This is disturbing." I said quietly. "Primus, I look like slag… am I still like that?"

"No, fortunately. The Omega Lock restored your chassis, but when I pulled you out of the dirt, you weren't exactly about to win a beauty contest."

I forced a chuckle.

Bulkhead got my double's past self up, and the present Seven suddenly looked like he had just been struck.

"What?" I asked, nervous.

"I…" his optics widened in amazement, "I… just, no, just watch, I have to confirm this…"

Eyeing him out of the corner of my vision, I reluctantly continued to watch the scene in front of our optics. The past Seven struggled to get out of the Wrecker's hold and Bulkhead let him go, but I couldn't see well from my vantage point.

I skirted around the bots—not feeling comfortable about walking through them—and stopped right inside my dead chassis. I didn't look down.

Suddenly everyone seemed to be staring at me, including both versions of Seven. The past one took a few steps closer to me, looking shell-shocked. "Starscream?" he whispered weakly.

[Is that—his spark?] Bumblebee whirred, starting straight into my optics in disbelief.

It was like they all could see me. I looked to the present Seven, seeing him rendered slack-jawed. I forced my attention off of him and onto his past self, who had his servo reached out towards my faceplates, looking as though in a dream. _How ironic._

I reached out and brushed my fingers through his servo, only feeling the air. Something beneath me caught my notice, and I stole a glance down to find that my chest plate was glowing, the warm light emanating right from the center.

The past Seven suddenly collapsed and I loosed a surprised yelp, skittering backwards out of instinct.

"Sev, are you all right?" Smokescreen asked, lending his servo down to the fallen Seeker.

"What kind of question is that?!" Arcee glared at him. Seven shushed them with a servo and got up on his own, looking around. Knock Out pointed at me and my double whirled around, meeting my optics.

"I'm okay…" he said quietly, giving me a nod so slight that I might have imagined it.

Suddenly the ground fell away from my pedes and I saw that the present Seven was with me, fortunately. He'd managed to close his mouth but still looked dumbstruck. I watched the scene fall away beneath our pedes and fade into blackness once again, not knowing what had just happened. My chest plate had stopped glowing, I noticed as I heaved for air, wondering what in Pit had just happened.

"It really _was_ you," Seven breathed, finally finding his voice. "I thought that maybe…"

"What happened to you?" I asked.

"I have an idea," a grin started coming onto his faceplates, "your last words were 'see you later, brother,' as if you _knew_ we would meet again."

"I have no memory of that," my optics narrowed in thought, "and even if I did say that, how could I have known that wasn't the end?"

"Perhaps it is something that you have yet to do in this form…" he suggested, tapping his chin.

"Yes, that may be possible," I agreed reluctantly, "but how? When?"

He raised his servos, "Who knows? But that isn't the only thing I've been thinking of."

"Oh? Enlighten me."

"I remember that on the day you died, I didn't see _you_ as you are now. As far as I know, none of us did."

"Go on," I urged, hanging on to every word.

"We saw you as your spark, but it felt like you could see us as well, somehow. I wasn't sure of it until now… but now…"

The invisible ground seemed to slosh beneath my pedes and I hastily grabbed my double's arm for support. "Then what happened to you, Sev? You fell…" I repeated.

He grinned and held me by my shoulder plates, "Star, I touched your spark– _you_ , frag, I don't know what happened! But we can't forget: _I'm your clone!_ "

"And?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think either of us has forgotten that."

"You know how cloning works, so _think_!" He looked ready to burst.

It was infectious. "JUST TELL ME!" I shouted, grabbing his arms and shaking him as if that would make it just fall out of his mouth.

"When a clone is made," he began, taking deep intakes to remain calm, a vain effort, "the original's spark is split and a sliver melds with the clone's spark. But the portion of the original's spark remains dormant inside the host—clone, whatever you wish to call it."

My optics widened and I stepped back. "You're saying that when I died, it woke up? That some part of me lives inside you?"

"That is the only explanation!" he squealed, looking giddy. "I-I need to tell Optimus and the others. That explains why we share this connection, and why you didn't completely die! We can't keep this secret any longer, not when we're so close! I will come back as soon as I can, I promise. And I'll bring real answers!"

Grinning like a fool, I was helpless to watch as he pinched himself.


	38. 38 - More Answers

XXXVIII - More Answers

I jerked awake. "Prime!" I gasped, snapping upright.

"Seven? Is everything all right?" Optimus asked, positioning himself in front of me.

"No… I mean yes, yes, everything is far better than 'all right,'" I grinned. "Let's wake the others, everyone needs to hear what I have to say."

"Now?" his brow furrowed, "Can it wait until the morning?"

I shook my helm feverishly, already trying to scramble down the side of the rocks. "There is no way I could hold out that long. No. You, me, the doctors, and everyone else are going to have a meeting _right now_."

* * *

"Your men work quickly, CYLAS." Airachnid remarked, only mildly impressed. They had been fast, for humans.

"If we did not, MECH would not be half of what it is." He replied cooly, twisting the cable connected to the back of his helm.

"Why not remain in Breakdown's chassis?" The black femme asked, crossing her arms.

CYLAS gave her a sideways look, "Air superiority, remember? What use is it to have a plan to terminate Megatron when I cannot even reach his ship?"

"You make a compelling point," she nodded.

"Sir," a MECH operative spoke up, grabbing CYLAS' attention. "The connection is stable. We're ready whenever you are."

"Excellent. Fire it up."

The operative nodded and entered a couple commands on the console in front of him. CYLAS reclined against the makeshift berth they had set up, one of Starscream's offlined clones beside him a short ways away. The team of MECH scientists and engineers had made quick work of the Seeker's chassis, fixing it up in record time. Their patch jobs had left scars because they lacked adequate knowledge of Cybertronian medical practices, but it was fully functional. A crude patch cord connected the two mechs' helms.

"Initiating neural connection in three…" the same operative announced, "two… one." he slammed his palm down onto a button on the console and the blue mech fell limp against the berth. A couple seconds later, the Seeker's scarlet optics onlined and he blinked a few times, holding his black servos in front of his faceplates as if checking that they were real.

"It worked, it actually worked." He breathed, clenching a fist. CYLAS unplugged the patch cord from his helm and got off the berth, flexing his wings and limbs to make sure everything functioned as it should.

The disfigured Seeker turned to the operatives on the platform in front of him, "You know what to do." he turned and faced the four soldiers standing beside their own clone, "As you all know, remote operation of these mechs is too unreliable, we learned that through Optimus Prime's duplicate. As such, you each will control your mechs from the inside as if they are puppets."

"There isn't a possibility of them coming alive and attacking us, is there?" The third soldier asked.

CYLAS turned on him, "If you are suggesting that the clones can come back from the dead, then we shall see." he said sarcastically. "Your brains, fused with their systems as I once was."

"Ready, sir." They echoed in unison. The MECH scientists on the platform remotely opened the four Seeker's chest plates, where a cavity had been made, and the four climbed inside. If they were afraid, they didn't show it.

Soon enough, five identical Seekers stood around each other in a loose circle, four of them awaiting orders from the fifth.

"How are we supposed to tell each other apart?" One of the five Seekers asked.

"Different paint patterns or colors," another suggested.

CYLAS picked up a different cord and plugged its business end into his left elbow joint, then looked to an operative still on the platform. "Change my optical pigment composition to something different, I don't care what."

The lead scientist nodded and entered a few quick commands, then sent them once they were complete. CYLAS blinked and detached the cord from his elbow, peering at his reflection in the backside of the screen.

"Black irises, very sinister." He smirked, tilting his helm to let it catch the light. The only parts of his optics that weren't black now were his white pupils. CYLAS turned to address the six remaining MECH operatives, "Evacuate this location and move to Zeta Base. You all remember where it is located?"

They nodded.

"Am I not worthy of being in on the secret code?" Airachnid cocked her helm, "I mean, if you get killed, I'll need to know where the rest of MECH is to break the news."

"Just be happy that you are in here at all," CYLAS growled.

"Be happy that your helm isn't on a stick, the way I did to dear Breakdown." She snarled, her innocent demeanor melting away like ice by a fire.

"You four, we leave now." CYLAS barked at the other Seekers. He didn't even look at Airachnid behind him, "Try to keep up."

She glared at him, "Careful, CYLAS. You're beginning to sound a bit like Starscream. Wouldn't want to follow in his footsteps, hm?"

"We'll see about that."

* * *

"This better be good, Sevvie," Bulkhead huffed, "I was having an amazing dream about dune bashing with Miko, 'til your faceplates entered it."

"Yeah, what gives?" Smokescreen frowned, rubbing his optics with the back of a servo. "It's not even light out yet, couldn't whatever this is have waited until morning?"

The others began to voice their own complaints, creating a cacophony of grumbling.

Ultra Magnus shushed everyone, "The sooner we let him speak, the sooner we can recharge."

"Sounds fair," Arcee agreed. A few others nodded their helms begrudgingly.

I leaned over Starscream's berth, smirking above his lifeless expression. "I don't know, Star, should I tell them?"

"Get on with it!" Knock Out exclaimed. "He can't hear you!"

"Funny you should say that, dear doctor," I began, and straightened up to face the red mech, striding closer to him. "What I'm about to tell you all will sound crazy, so listen closely."

A few bots raised their eyebrows. "Can you just skip the theatrics and get to the point? We're all tired," Arcee crossed her arms and stifled a yawn.

My optics glinted, "Oh, you won't be." I took an intake, ordering my thoughts. "Ratchet, Knock Out, the both of you detected an anomaly with my spark, did you not?"

"How do you know that?" The older bot's optics narrowed.

I nodded at Optimus, who returned it with an impassive stare. I suddenly felt a lot less confident. _What if they think I'm crazy?_

I cleared my vocalizer, "When a clone is made, myself included, the original's spark is split. The clone then shares a sliver of the original's spark—which lies dormant within the host's chamber."

"Oh? This is common knowledge, but if you are suggesting that something about it has changed enough to be picked up on our scanners, I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Starscream died and I brought his chassis back online. Nothing like that has ever happened before, so don't tell me what's impossible!" I rebuked the white medic.

"I still don't see why this is worthy of waking us all up." Bumblebee crossed his arms.

I pointed to Starscream on the berth with the army of machines hooked up to him keeping his chassis functional. "It is, because Star is going to wake up."

Almost everyone began to appear a lot less irritated and far more sad, almost looking on me with pitying optics. Bulkhead came over to me, "Sev, I know Scream's death was hard on you especially. But he's gone, okay? You can't keep living like this. You have to let go at some point."

I pushed him away, but it was like pushing a wall, "You don't understand! I'm not finished! He's not finished!"

Ratchet went over to a console by Starscream, but didn't touch its screen just yet and met my optics instead. "Seven, Knock Out and I did not want to discourage you, but now this is clearly an issue that needs to be addressed. I'm sorry, but Starscream is deep in stasis lock. He's displaying no processor activity," the medic said stoutly and pointed to a flat line on one of the screens to back up his argument. "Seven," his tone became far more tender, "I knew when I pulled him from that lake that Starscream will not be coming back. I'm… I'm so sorry. We've been keeping him online for your sake, however, showing him mercy is the only reasonable option now." Ratchet looked to Optimus as if awaiting confirmation.

The Prime looked to everyone but me while I numbly stared ahead, digesting his words. _He's done for. I'm the only thing between them and terminating Starscream._ "Does anyone wish to voice an objection? Sustaining his chassis uses our precious resources, and Ratchet has delivered his diagnosis."

I tried to lock optics with the Prime but he refused to meet my desperate gaze, instead meeting Ratchet's. My tank plummeted, and he nodded grimly. "For the sake of all of us and Starscream's memory, do it, old friend."

The medic nodded back and began to deactivate life support. The machines began to go offline one by one, their faint metallic hums and buzzes fading to nothing.

I finally found my voice. "NO!" I exclaimed, and lunged forwards to push Ratchet's servo away from the controls. The medic reflexively shoved me away with the very servo he'd been terminating my double with and I lost my balance, hitting the back of my helm hard on the edge of Starscream's berth. Momentarily stunned, I sat on the floor and stared dumbly at the medic's pedes.

Ratchet had extended a servo down to me, optics worried. "By the Allspark, Seven, I'm sorry. Are you all right?"

"This is murder," I whispered, not taking it and got up on my own.

"Sev, he's already offline," Smokescreen said softly.

"None of you get it!" I burst out, feeling my wings snap up and vibrate in anger.

"C'mon Seven, don't be like this. You're making it harder for all of us," Bumblebee pleaded.

"No," I snarled, looking to Optimus. "You asked if anyone wants to object? Well, hear this, Prime! Unplugging him is _murder_. Taking his function is not your choice to make!"

"How!?" Several bots exclaimed, fed up. "He's already gone!" Bulkhead pressed.

I pointed a servo behind me at my supine double, helpless on the berth, and hissed, "Because he is not offline. If you want to terminate him," I let a blaster slide out and raised my other servo to grip Valor's hilt on my back, "you'll have to pry my cold, dead fingers off him first."

"Easy there, Seven," Wheeljack placated, raising his servos and stepping forwards, "you knocked your helm pretty hard, just listen to yourself. Just put the blaster away–"

"DO NOT PULL THAT CARD ON ME, WHEELJACK!" I roared. But he was right to some extent, there was no way I would convince any of them when I didn't even have control of my own emotions. I dropped my arm and transformed my blaster away, beginning to feel shame burn my faceplates. "I can't hurt any of you, but I can't let you hurt Starscream."

Optimus came over to me and bent down to get to my level, "Seven, it will be painless for him. But we cannot let him rest in peace while sustaining his chassis."

"Besides," Arcee added from behind the Prime, raising a servo, "it's not like we can ask his opinion."

"I already have." I said quietly. The room had fallen silent. "I believe that the part of his spark within mine has somehow forged a connection between us, in more than just a physical way."

"Go on," Knock Out said, looking more curious than skeptical. But a few of the others were looking at me like I really had lost it, so pitying… I tore my gaze away.

"I've been having these dreams," I said, "with Starscream in them. At first, I assumed he was some figment of my imagination that was Pit-bent on tormenting me, but as we talked, he seemed to have more, I don't know— _substance_ —than anyone else that's ever appeared in my dreams."

"Seven," Arcee came over, looking genuinely sorry for me, "please. You're not just hurting yourself with this, but you're hurting _us_. You're hurting _him_." she gestured at my double's lifeless chassis, "I know Starscream was your closest friend, as Cliff was mine. But you have to let him go before it completely consumes you." she whispered, getting close to my faceplates to force me to look at her. "This is already hard for us. Don't make it harder."

"She's not wrong," Knock Out joined in, "Starscream and I were friends for a long time, I…" he sighed, "I know how you feel. I do. But I'm a doctor, and I've seen mechs go mad with grief, multiple times, in fact. Ratchet has as well, because, well, it happens in war. But not _you_ , Seven. You need to move on."

"Seven?" Ratchet asked, coming over to me. "Have you been hearing or seeing anything out of the ordinary recently?" he asked softly, "Things that shouldn't be where they are, or that may defy reality–"

I stood as straight as I could, forcing the steadiest tone I could muster. "Ratchet," my voice was a soft growl, "I am _not_ losing it. Do not _ever_ ask me if I've been hallucinating again. Does my claim not warrant a check of our systems? After all, if I am right and there is a portion of Starscream's spark living inside my own, you all could very well be wrong." I bit my lip, hoping I sounded more convincing to them than I did to myself.

Ratchet frowned, debating. He looked to Optimus, "The possibility of what he's experiencing, if it even exists, is next to zero. Should we go through with this?"

Everyone looked expectantly to the Prime. He mulled it over for a moment, "You may proceed."

I let out a shaky, relieved sigh and sagged, touching a servo to the center of my chest plate. "Primus, this is hard, but it'll be worth it. I promise you." My optics settled onto my double, quietly intaking on the berth.

* * *

 _A few hours later…_

"Seven?" Ratchet's voice pulled me up out of recharge. I hadn't realized I'd dozed off. It had been night when I had woken everyone up, after all, and only a few hours had passed. "I finished the scans of your spark. I would have woken you, but there really was no need for it."

"It's fine, doctor. My thanks for allowing me to recharge." I threw my gaze around, seeing that only a few bots remained in the room. Of them, there were the two doctors and Optimus, no surprises there. Bumblebee and Arcee had also remained here, looking as though they had just woken as well. "Well?" I asked, stretching. I felt stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. "What have you found?"

Knock Out gave Ratchet a look, "We're sorry."

"Seven, your guess was correct." the other medic agreed slowly, "from what we've gathered, the piece of Starscream's spark inside your own is no longer dormant."

My faceplates split into a triumphant grin. I looked to Optimus, feeling giddy. "I told you so!"

Ratchet cleared his vocalizer loudly, "However," he continued once he'd gotten everyone's attention, "it likely was just a reaction, a fail-safe mechanism that initiated automatically when Starscream passed."

My spark sank.

"Didn't you mention something about him being in your dreams earlier?" Arcee asked.

"Don't encourage him!" Ratchet exclaimed. He went over to the femme and whispered in her audial, as if expecting I wouldn't hear. But I have sharp audials, it's another perk of being a Seeker. We have to have sensitive audials to have any hope of hearing things on the ground when in flight. "Arcee, judging by what we all have witnessed in his behavior over the past several hours, his… his mental state is deteriorating. Watch what you say," the medic hissed.

My servos tightened into fists. "I can hear you," I hissed at them. "May I continue? Or do I have to go collect my marbles first?"

"Go for it," Bumblebee said, giving me a sympathetic look.

I looked to Optimus and swallowed nervously, unsure of how to start. He nodded gently, if not encouragingly, "We will listen, Seven. Take your time."

I nodded back and tried to give him a smile, but it flickered and died. "Sometimes, I've had dreams with Starscream in them, and he… he knew things. Things he shouldn't have known, frag, he says he's alive!" I burst out, cutting to the chase. "We've been piecing it together, and we think it's the rest of his spark, linked to me on a mental level because of my connection to him."

"Because of your spark?" Knock Out breathed. I nodded.

"Starscream once mentioned having a dream similar to what you are describing," Optimus said.

My wings flared up in surprise, "What? He never said anything of the sort to me!" I exclaimed. "What was it?"

"I was there as well," Ratchet jumped in.

"Go ahead," Optimus said to the medic, waving a servo for him to continue.

Ratchet continued, leaning over the console in front of him, "He said that he had a dream back in the _Harbinger_ in which he was back at the Cybertron War Academy. However, there was some sort of duplicate of himself with him."

"And it wasn't me?" I guessed.

"We thought it was you as well, until Starscream told us otherwise." Optimus clarified.

"That wasn't the only thing that seemed off," the medic continued, "he said that his double claimed to be a future version of himself. And he mentioned you, prior to your very cloning."

I was flabbergasted, "That's not possi–wait. Earlier tonight, when I was recharging, Starscream and I visited that very dream—don't ask me how, I don't know. Starscream said that he had somehow been—" I waved a servo to help move the words along, "sucked into his past self's dream shortly before mine that night. He tried to tell him to _not_ retrieve his T-Cog from MECH, but his past self wouldn't listen. We couldn't change his mind, and he may be gone for good."

"So he's really out there somewhere?" Bumblebee breathed. "I mean, if his spark is, then Seven's connection with him makes sense."

Ratchet looked down at Starscream, "I still find this all hard to believe–" my double's right leg twitched. Our gazes all snapped to the screen displaying his processor's activity, but it was unchanged from the flat line. "That should not have happened," the medic looked skeptical but also hopeful, "as he is deep in stasis lock, the equivalent of a human coma."

"Is he coming out of it?" Arcee asked.

The two medics exchanged a look. "Without reintroducing his spark into his chassis, he will not wake up." Ratchet finally said.

"How might we get it, hm?" I asked, my wings twitching. "You're supposed to be doctors, surely something like this has happened before?"

"If it has, it isn't on record," Knock Out crossed his arms. "As for getting it, we may have a shot at coaxing it back into its chamber."

"How?" Arcee, Bumblebee, and I asked in unison.

The red medic's optics fell onto my chest plate, "With bait."


	39. 39 - New Allies

XXXIX - New Allies

I chuckled nervously, looking to the red doctor. "Bait? I-I'm not sure I follow."

He stood and began to pace back and forth, "If we want Starscream to wake up, we need a way of getting his spark back into his chassis. Let's say we take the sliver of your spark that belongs to Starscream, Seven, and stick it into his spark chamber." he tapped a finger against his chin in thought, "Doing so should force the rest of his spark to leave whatever state of limbo it currently is in–"

"Bringing him back online by re-entering his spark chamber," Arcee finished.

Ratchet nodded, "I can say with confidence from my knowledge of sparks and how they operate that your theory, Knock Out, stands to reason." he crossed his arms. "Perhaps there's a bit more substance behind your flashy finish than I thought."

Knock Out's eyebrows arched and he pretended to fiddle with an audial, "Am I being praised? By _you_?" he looked around, "Are any of you hearing this?"

Arcee gave him a look.

I cleared my vocalizer loudly, "Doctors? When and how do you intend to initiate this procedure? And what will I have to do?"

"As I'm sure you've gathered," Ratchet began, measuring out his words slowly as he looked to me, "the part of Starscream's spark occupying your own will have to be extracted from you and inserted into his spark chamber. I would like to do this as soon as possible. If you consider yourself ready, we can do it as soon as possible. However, with the equipment I have on hand, it may prove to be a challenge."

I realized my mouth was hanging open. "You have to do _what_?!"

Optimus stood, grabbing our attention. "I believe from this point on, it will be best to divert our efforts in order to divide and conquer. I will take a team of whoever wishes to go with me for our summit with Megatron, while Seven and the medics remain here."

"To bring Starscream back from the dead," Bumblebee finished, his optics falling onto the Seeker's lifeless chassis, still hooked up to its army of machines.

I looked up to Ratchet, then Knock Out, meeting both the doctors' optics. "I'll do it."

* * *

CYLAS transformed and landed less-than-gracefully on the upper deck of the _Nemesis_ , Airachnid following suit behind him. The four other Seekers and Airachind's Insecticons came last, landing behind the pair.

"Spread out," CYLAS said, fanning his wings, "we will cover more ground–"

"No," the spider countered, stepping up, "spreading my armada thin will only bring about more casualties. We will storm this warship and find Megatron, if we have to go through his entire army to find him."

"You cannot order me or my men around," the Seeker growled, stepping up to her. His black optics glittered in the waxing light.

"Funny," she said, not looking at him but her Insecticons stepped closer, "I thought I just did. Follow me."

CYLAS ground his denta furiously, but followed into the depths of the ship.

* * *

Airachnid pressed the button next to the door granting access to the bridge. It opened to admit her, at least a hundred Insecticons behind her, CYLAS, and his smaller armada of Seekers.

"Megatron," she purred, "I believe I would like a rematch."

The warlord stood in the center of the room and turned around slowly, "I bested your warrior. Fight me yourself, and I will spare you the embarrassment of watching your armada die at my servo."

She cocked her helm at him, "Unless if I am mistaken, Dreadwing, Soundwave, and even you," she jerked her black helm at the silent mech on the edge of the room, "are not capable of taking on an Insecticon army of this magnitude."

"We shall see about that." he growled, turning to his TIC. Soundwave padded forward, Megatron and Dreadwing made way for him. "Annihilate her and her army." he ordered. They stood just behind the communications chief, safely inside an invisible radius only the three of them were aware of.

"Wait," CYLAS said, coming up beside Airachnid and held a servo out to stop her, "they're up to something."

"Ever so observant," she purred, not looking to him.

"Should we retreat?" he asked.

The black femme didn't get the chance to answer as Megatron took a surprised step forwards, shock on his faceplates. But he hid it quickly and drew himself up, "Starscream's clone, back once again?"

CYLAS gave him a slight, malicious smirk, "You are mistaken, Megatron. I imagine you might have recognized me had I worn Breakdown's chassis. I must say, it isn't right for the occasion."

"CYLAS," Megatron's expression darkened and his mouth plates thinned into a sneer, noticing the Seeker's black optics for the first time. He didn't face Soundwave but addressed the silent mech just the same, "End them."

Soundwave raised the resonance blaster above his helm and activated it. The Seeker and spider had lunged at the silver warlord in sync, but fell to the ground along with their warriors, gripping their helms and wailing. But no one, not even they could hear their screams as the piercing frequency tore through the room, sparing only Dreadwing, Soundwave, and Megatron.

"Finish them," the warlord ordered his second. Dreadwing nodded and pulled his minigun from its place on his back, firing rapid bursts of red plasma at the Insecticons. Megatron took it upon himself to fire shots at the four silver Seekers, balled up on the ground in agony.

Soon enough, only Airachnid and CYLAS remained among the sea of chassis. Soundwave silently deactivated the resonance blaster and lowered it, taking a step back while Megatron went forwards.

"So," he growled, his tone like water gliding over ice, "what was it you were saying, that we are incapable of taking on your army?" he sneered, stepping up to CYLAS' faceplates.

"Tell that to Airachnid," the scarred Seeker said in a deathly whisper.

The black spider looked to the slender mech beside her, "I believe that I am no longer in need of you or your men's assistance." she faced Megatron, "Do with him as you please."

CYLAS' wings flattened and his words came out in a low, threatening growl, "Airachnid, what do you intend to gain by ending our alliance?"

"I intend to not lose my function," she purred, not facing him.

Suddenly a ping rang out from a console, and Soundwave went over to investigate. He stopped mid-click and turned to Megatron, beckoning him over. "Watch them," the warlord growled to Dreadwing, and joined the silent mech at the console. His scarlet optics skimmed the text and he straightened, addressing his second. "Take them to the brig and send troops to clean this up." he waved an arm at the dead Insecticons carpeting the room.

"I will at once, my liege," the blue Seeker said, dipping his helm. Suddenly his minigun was trained on CYLAS' faceplates. "My twin lost his spark due to Starscream's incompetence," he growled.

"I am not Starscream, and I assure you that I am the reason your brother rests in peace. I avenged him. Starscream is no more, I stand in one of his clones' chassis." The silver mech hissed. "So lower that weapon."

"Dreadwing, stand down." Megatron ordered.

Airachnid took advantage of their momentary distraction and launched herself at the warlord, who fired his fusion cannon into her side at close range. She fell to the floor and skittered back on her spider legs, energon already trickling from the hole in her side.

"Do not tempt me to extinguish your spark, Airachnid." the silver warlord snarled.

CYLAS seized the moment and attacked the spider, opening fire on her. He wasn't used to having blasters, however, and missed by feet. She clucked her glossa, "Oh, CYLAS, do you want to fight me now too? But you will have to be careful, you're still just a human, no matter what form you take, and you might get hurt."

Megatron spoke up, seeing the opportunity. "I give my word that I will spare the victor and let them leave here unharmed." He turned back to face the screen and sent out a high-frequency signal, hoping to ping the Autobots' comm frequencies. The two fought ferociously in the background, not warranting his attention. He had instigated the battle, and the pair should have known that his word was worth nothing.

As expected, the Autobots picked up almost immediately. "Megatron," Optimus said in a tense, grim greeting.

"Optimus," the warlord transferred the link to his personal comm channel and silently directed Dreadwing and Soundwave to seize CYLAS and Airachnid, the former of which was leaking a profuse amount of energon from a helm wound. But the spider had lost an Insecticon leg, an impressive feat on the mutilated Seeker's part.

"My liege," Dreadwing asked, hitching his minigun onto his back, "they have no use to the Decepticons. Shall we not end this, here and now?"

"But Dreadwing," Megatron turned to his second after having muted the comm, "they do have their uses. Detain them."

The Seeker had to knock Airachnid unconscious to get her into cuffs, but CYLAS was far more willing, blinking energon out of his optics while glaring up at him in silent fury. "This is far from over," he growled quietly.

"That is what they always say when it is." Dreadwing retorted. He made to take them to the brig, but Megatron stopped him.

"No. We will be taking them with us."

His second was skeptical, but complied. "As you wish, my Lord." he gave CYLAS a contemptuous look, "I suggest delivering that _abomination_ to Shockwave to study–"

"Silence!" Megatron barked. He unmuted the comm link and spoke into it, knotting his servos. "I presume that you wish to meet?"

"Indeed."

"I will permit you to join me aboard my warship for a short time." the warlord rumbled, "Whom are you bringing with you?"

"Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Smokescreen, Wheeljack, Ultra Magnus, and myself." the Prime stated.

"Does my former second's clone not wish to partake in the proceedings, as well as your medics?" Megatron asked innocently, nodding to Soundwave to activate the space bridge. The blue mech's fingers flew over the screens, entering in swift commands.

"They are otherwise engaged." Optimus stated vaguely.

"Provide your current coordinates." Megatron ordered.

The Prime did so, and the warlord knew with confidence that they were not the location of their base. Neither side had a reason to wholeheartedly trust the other. Yet.

Soundwave received the coordinates and sent them to the space bridge, activating it. They saw on a camera's feed that group of colorful Autobots cautiously emerged onto the upper deck of the _Nemesis_ in a circle, blasters raised and pointed outwards. Only once they realized they weren't about to be attacked did they dare lower their blasters.

"Funny, a the leader of the Decepticons being true to his word." Wheeljack growled.

"Remind me," Smokescreen scanned possible places troops could be hiding in, "why didn't Sev come with us?"

"I don't think he chickened out, kid." Bulkhead said, knowing what the younger mech was implying.

The seven bots cautiously walked towards the doors leading into the ship. "We will be extremely vulnerable if we enter," Ultra Magnus pointed out, "it is hardly to our tactical advantage."

The doors opened, "Trust me," Megatron purred, standing in front of them, "we have a better view from up here."

Several bots' optics narrowed, but they gradually dispersed to the sides of the warship, looking down.

"Cybertron!" Arcee gasped.

"Indeed, and our homeworld is not as it once was," the warlord said, prompting them all to look closer. "The Omega Lock was the apex of the Ancients' creations." he remarked, the corners of his mouth plates smugly twitching upwards.

The _Nemesis_ drifted slowly over Cybertron, a gleaming pearl of silver in a sea of blackness. It was no longer a war-torn graveyard and wasteland, but a sparkling new planet that hardly resembled its former self. Nature had taken over, metallic plains blanketing the planet and deep ravines crisscrossing it. Cities stood, but even from space, it was clear that there was work to do.

"How?" Bulkhead breathed, voicing everyone's thoughts.

"The Lock was destroyed," Bumblebee added breathlessly.

"Not before we Decepticons put it to its intended use," the warlord corrected.

"You shot a beam right into the Well of Allsparks, the heart of Cybertron itself." Smokescreen said, remembering the laser of blue light. The others wore similar expressions of revelation and amazement.

"We can go home," Arcee whispered.

The _Nemesis_ began a slow descent to the surface of the metallic planet, affording them all a scenic view in a gentle spiral. Many of the Autobots present began talking excitedly amongst themselves, forgetting that they were aboard their enemies' warship as they discussed their plans.

They "landed" minutes later in the center of Kaon, the Decepticon capital. "After you," Megatron gestured to a platform that lined up perfectly with aft of the ship's flight deck. The Autobots slipped out of their reverie and looked to the Prime, who nodded.

"Megatron, I ask one favor of you." Optimus said as the others left, turning to the silver mech beside him. He returned the look expectantly, bemused. "Ratchet and Knock Out are about to attempt a procedure upon Seven and Starscream as we speak, one that will prove difficult, if not impossible, without the proper technology."

"You are asking to use one of Kaon's medical laboratories?" Megatron arched an eyebrow.

Optimus inclined his helm, "I am, and only for the duration of the procedure. We shall use whatever recovery time that is required for them on our own equipment."

"What need have your for Starscream's chassis?" the warlord pried.

"Starscream has been in a coma ever since his chassis met the cyber-matter of the Omega Lock." the red mech said.

"Impossible." Megatron scoffed, stopping in his tracks just before the entrance to a skyscraper.

"Is it any more impossible that Cybertron was restored through the same means?" Optimus asked.

"I wish to see him for myself," the silver mech rumbled. "That is not too much to ask, considering what you have requested."

"And end this conference?"

"We shall return in due time. The others will not know we have left."

Optimus thought it over for a moment, frowning slightly. He finally touched two fingers to the comm unit on the side of his helm, "Ratchet, move the humans to a safe location. I am bringing Megatron to our base."

* * *

Seven reclined on the med berth beside Starscream, his arms crossed behind his sleek helm as he stared up at the ceiling. Unannounced, Optimus strode into the room from the main entrance hallway, followed by none other than Megatron. The Seeker's wings twitched beneath him and he stood abruptly, looking at Valor. His red sword was in its black sheath across the room, safely tucked in an alcove, too far away to reach.

"So," the warlord said softly, striding across the room over to Starscream's chassis, "the rumors are true."

Seven skittered off the berth nervously and shrank behind Optimus. "W-why are you here?"

The silver mech fixed his ruby optics on the small Seeker, who froze. "Unless if your leader has spouted nothing but lies, my former second has been locked in stasis since our last battle." the Seeker edged out from behind his leader at this, considering Megatron's words. "Optimus has requested to use one of Kaon's medical facilities temporarily," he dipped his helm and his optics glinted, "in order to have the best chance at reviving him. I take it that is what you wish, is it not?"

Seven blinked, stunned. "More than an–but Kaon lies in ruin along with the rest of Cybertron. Unless if you intend to take him aboard the _Nemesis_ —which is not happening, mind you—this derelict husk's med bay is the best we have to offer him."

"Do you recall when Megatron fired the Omega Lock into the Well of Allsparks?" Optimus asked, looking to Seven.

The Seeker's wings snapped up, quivering, "You aren't saying…"

"Indeed."

The smaller, winged mech clutched the edge of a table to steady himself, optics widening. "I-I never thought… I didn't think it possible, and the Lock was destroyed…" he breathed. "We can go home."

Megatron faced Ratchet and Knock Out, "Take your dear Starscream with you. I assume it won't be much trouble."

"Oh?" Ratchet raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest plate, "Who are we to take orders from _you_ , and what might you know about medical technology? Transferring him is perilous. My pede is down."

"I know more than you think," the warlord cocked his helm knowingly. "Enough to know that you are bluffing, dear doctor, because you do not trust me."

"We can't just _listen_ to him, Optimus!" The white medic exclaimed, turning to his leader.

"If he keeps his word, it remains our best option if we wish for Starscream to survive and obtain lasting peace." the Prime maintained.

Knock Out looked to Ratchet, who nodded solemnly. The red medic began unplugging the assortment of lines, cables, and IVs from Starscream's supine chassis, taking him off life support.

"What are you doing?!" Seven yelped, and lunged forwards to stop him.

"Easy!" the red medic exclaimed. "He will be fine for a few hours without life support! Nonetheless, I would like to be swift." he looked to Optimus.

Seven warily watched Megatron as the Prime left his side and gingerly lifted Starscream off the med berth like a rag doll. His double suddenly was struck with a flashback to when the Seeker had fallen into recharge beside the Prime. Optimus held him the same way as he had then, and judging by Knock Out's expression, he was thinking of the moment as well. Ratchet was unreadable.

Megatron led the way to the space bridge that he and Optimus had come through, gesturing for the red mech to go through first. "After you." The Prime entered the vortex with a flash of light and vanished, Starscream with him.

Ratchet glared at the warlord, "You next."

"As you wish," Megatron inclined his silver helm at the medic and spun on his heel strut, stepping into the vortex.

"I don't trust him," Ratchet announced after the silver mech's exit, looking to his two companions. "The both of you are ex-Decepticons, so I'm certain you will agree with me in thinking that he isn't helping us out of the goodness of his spark."

"Whatever was good in his spark died a long time ago," Knock Out quipped. "Not even dark energon could bring it back."

"Did he not have a close friendship with Optimus early on?" Seven asked, looking to the white medic.

"Yes, but that Megatron perished a long time ago, as Knock Out said."

"Starscream died as well, and we are bringing him back."

"Turning one's helm is not so easily done." Ratchet crossed his arms. "Least of all the first offender's."

"Starscream, Knock Out, and I are living proof that it can be done, are we not?" the Seeker challenged, mirroring the medic's stance.

"None of you were extremely loyal to the Decepticon cause, last I checked. But we are wasting valuable time while we just stand here bickering." Ratchet said, effectively ending the conversation. "Fortunately, on Cybertron, our chances of resurrecting Starscream increase dramatically. And it is not merely because if Megatron upholds his word, we will have access to better technology."

"But because he will be closer to the Well of Allsparks. It is where sparks go to when their chassis are no more." Knock Out added, tapping his chin. Seven went over and retrieved Valor, sheathing it into its place on his back between his wings. The Seeker fingered its pommel thoughtfully, hoping that he will never have to use it again.

"Exactly." Ratchet looked to the Seeker as the three walked through the portal, "Seven, are you ready? It goes without saying that this procedure with your spark and Starscream's may very well turn fatal. We need to extract the sliver of his spark from yours, something that has never been done before."

"Are neither of you capable medics?" Seven's wings fanned out. "I am acutely aware of the stakes. However, if you can bring Starscream back and I die, why not do the same for me?"

Knock Out sighed, deflating. "It isn't that simple. This is a one-way street, Seven. Once the piece of his spark is extracted from yours, the connection between you both will be severed, and I say that with certainty. If your chassis cannot handle the procedure and your spark leaves," he swallowed nervously, "that's it."

Seven's optics widened and his wings flattened. "I have to do this. For Starscream's sake and mine, do it quickly." his ruby optics fell onto his double's limp form in Optimus' arms. "Do it before I have enough time to scare myself out of it."

Megatron let out a dark chuckle from the corner of the room. "Doctors, I imagine that you will find the layout of this medical bay exceedingly similar to that of the _Harbinger's_. This used to be one of Shockwave's laboratories, until he offered it to me to in turn give to you. Use it wisely, and try not to break anything." And with that, he was gone.

"He knows the location of our base?" Knock Out breathed, looking to Optimus in horror.

"We didn't think!" Seven exclaimed, already on a med berth, his wings vibrating beneath him. "He recognized the inside of the ship, how else? Starscream was sent to scout the _Harbinger_ 's wreckage _twice_ , and Megatron knew of it. How many Decepticon ships have crash-landed on this very planet that my twin knows of and has visited twice? Only one, I should think!" he fumed, "I am the reason that _Lord_ Megatron has discovered our base's location not only once, but _twice_!" He hit his leg in anger. The Seeker fell back against the berth and stared up at the ceiling, chest plate heaving as he fought for control over his emotions. "I am also the reason that MECH found our old base in the first place," he said quietly, "they must have picked up the signal from your rescue ground bridge when I was trapped in the shadow zone and traced it. Then they gift wrap Starscream's T-Cog and hand it to us, and he _dies_." he bit his lip, looking at Starscream who was on the berth beside him once again.

Optimus went over to the small Seeker's side and knelt down beside the berth, "A chain of events leads to everything that happens, making it easy for anyone to blame themselves if they look in the right places. But some things are out of our control, such as Starscream's virus. We could not save him then. The cause of his termination was out of our control, but its effect is within it. If we wish to achieve all our aims, we must confront them simultaneously with our combined power. We will rebuild Cybertron, revive Starscream, and make peace with Megatron and his Decepticons." The Prime straightened up and Seven's optics followed him as he walked away, beginning to fill with hope. "Wherever you go, Seven, know that we will always be with you." he smiled down at the Seeker and the doors closed in front of him.


	40. 40 - De-Termination

XL - De-Termination

The pair of doctors looked to me expectantly, waiting for some statement. Knock Out gave me a small smile as well, but it looked more nervous than reassuring. I clenched and unclenched my servos, staring up through a window in the ceiling above me to Cybertron's sky.

"I'll never be ready, but I have to do this. Starscream would do the same for me, I'm certain of that." After that shaky but resolute statement, everything passed by in a blur. Ratchet had me undergo a few systems checks and scans—mostly of my spark, I guessed, because it all took place around my chest plate. The same four words kept running through my helm: _I'm going to die._

 _I'm going to die._

 _I'm going to die._

 _I'm going to die. Why am I doing this?! Willingly sacrificing my function…_

"Try to relax, Seven. You're in shnoock. I'm going to give you a sedative; I'm sure you know what it feels like." Ratchet soothed, injecting a syringe into my elbow as he spoke softly. "You will still be able to speak with us until… well, Seven, just know that we're here for you. Just as Optimus said." he promised and forced me to look at him, smiling in a strained way. "Always will be."

I hardly noticed my vision acquire a vignette to it, or how the edges and colors of everything softened. "I–it'll be okay," I said thickly, knowing sure as Pit it was a lie. My glossa felt fuzzy, and turning thoughts into words proved to be more difficult with each passing moment. I couldn't see Knock Out's reaction, the other medic stood in the way. "Make sure Star is grateful."

"We will." Knock out said quietly from somewhere behind him. Suddenly they both were above me, saying their goodbyes that I barely registered. My arm felt like it was filled with lead as I raised it and brushed my talons over the center of my chest plate, giving them a weak smile.

* * *

Knock Out's optics welled up with lubricant as Seven's arm slid off his chest plate and hung limply off the edge of the berth. The ECG monitoring his spark's activity gave one final blip, and he was gone. Just like that.

Fighting to best his emotions, Ratchet grabbed a tool and opened Seven's chest plate. It split down the middle the way it was supposed to, exposing his spark chamber. There never had been a procedure even remotely like this done before, and it would require unconventional methods. That went without question. The Seeker's spark struggled up out of its place and hovered in the air for a few long seconds, seeming to absorb the light from the room and get its bearings. The pulsating silvery ball of energy almost gave the impression that it could see the two bots before it, standing agape.

"S-Seven?" Knock Out whimpered, watching it in awe through vision blurred by lubricant.

Then the spark fizzled out of existence with a loud _crack!_ And both medics jumped back, cursing. Ratchet took several minutes running thorough scans of the Seekers' systems, but neither of them displayed any signs of life. Even Starscream had flatlined, to their horror.

The red medic was about to open a comm to the Prime when a quiet, raspy noise silenced him before he could make a noise. For a moment, neither of them could locate its source, that is, until Seven's optics flickered and came online at a dim setting.

"By the Allspark," Ratchet breathed, rushing over to his side. "Seven?"

The silver mech blinked a few times, not appearing to understand the medic's words. Ratchet helped him sit up and the Seeker mutely took in the room before him, essentially a cleaner, brighter version of the _Harbinger_ 's medical bay with updated equipment and devices. He looked down with a glazed expression and closed the halves of his chest plate. Knock out went over and clapped him on the back, grinning and looking shell-shocked at the same time. The two expressions did not go together.

Ratchet ushered the other medic away from him and went in front of the Seeker, who still gave the appearance of catatonia. "Seven, can you hear me?" he asked slowly, enunciating each word carefully, just to be sure.

Seven seemed to rise out a trance and met the white medic's azure gaze like he was seeing him for the first time. "Starscream?" he asked quietly.

Neither of them met his hopeful optics.

Knock Out sighed and rummaged around behind a desk for an AED, "I'll give it one last shot."

The red medic began to charge the device and a male, monotonous robotic voice rang out from it: " _Charging… charging…_ "

Ratchet pressed a button on the top of the device which muted it, grumbling, "I hate talking machines."

Knock Out gave him a look and raised it above Starscream's chest plate, but before he could even lower it, the line on the other ECG's monitor blipped. The AED almost fell out of the medic's grasp and the three of them watched the screen, rapt. A few fluttering beats followed, but then they began to spike higher and higher, speeding up.

"By the Allspark," Ratchet breathed again and Knock Out dropped the AED.

* * *

I blinked up at a harsh light above me, having no clue as to where I was or what was going on. A few excited, no, _ecstatic_ voices babbled over each other above me.

"Get… see… th… way… Sev…"

"Primus! Ra… can't… lieve this… he-he's–" the mech was at an obvious loss for words. Another voice made what sounded like an excited squeal.

My senses gradually came into focus and as if it was a perceptible change, the small huddle of bots swarmed me. A silver one with large wings that had red stripes on their ends wriggled closer between the two others, towering over me. He was vaguely familiar, but I wasn't sure if that massive grin belonged on him or not.

"Star?" he asked. His familiar voice triggered a memory, which triggered another, and suddenly I was drowning in them. There were so many that at first I could see a few, watch them, even, but soon enough it was like my entire function had been put on fast-forward. Thousands of years became flashes and and then only blurs of light and color, while I was assaulted with a cacophony of overlapping sounds that I wasn't even sure I was hearing. There were a few above me that were louder than the others, though…

It was like I had been doused in frigid water. "Starscream, can you hear me? _Starscream_?!" one shrieked.

"Not again!"

"Don't lose him!"

"RATCHET!"

The icy feeling had left, and now my chest plate was on fire. I clawed at it, gasping for air. I was drowning, which shouldn't have been possible but there was no mistaking the choking feeling as I struggled to gulp down air. I swore that my chest plating was melting, dripping and oozing over my fingers as I clenched it, screaming my vocalizer raw.

"Get the AED again, he's going into arrest!" A gruff voice barked, sounding staticky through my audials.

The metal bubbled over my servos and up my neck cables. I writhed beneath it, trying to get the horrifying _stuff_ off. Defying gravity, it slid over my faceplates and into my mouth, down my throat, scalding and blinding me. I gasped, choking and gagging as my visual abruptly cut out.

"His spark can't handle his chassis!" A voice I recognized as Knock Out's exclaimed frantically.

"It's been supporting itself along for too long, I should have foreseen this…" another trailed off before my audio input vanished as well, and the world became wholly and completely black.

* * *

"Seven, I'm so sorry," Ratchet said, coming over to me as I stared mutely at my double, who had been alive just a second ago. Knock Out took the AED and administered a powerful jolt to my double's chest plate that now had scratch marks crisscrossing it. Ratchet was saying something but I wasn't listening, watching intensely as the red medic prepared to shock the other Seeker again. This time Starscream's chest jerked up off the med berth and collapsed back onto it, his optics flickering on then back off. The ECG displayed spikes again, weaker than last time, but with equal intervals between them.

"His optics are blue," I whispered. "Did either of you do that?"

They shook their helms. "Blue must have been their natural color, until he changed them to red. It isn't a hard thing to do. They have been reverted to their original state, along with the rest of him."

"So is he a sparkling? In his helm, I mean?" I asked tentatively.

Knock Out let out a tense chuckle, "No, thankfully. We should keep an optic on him, but until he wakes up, there isn't much to do."

"He's recharging?" I asked, stunned.

"Unconscious, actually. But alive." Ratchet corrected, pulling up a visual of a scan of his processor taken moments ago. "I'll give him an energon IV and a light sedative, they should be able to ease the transition for his spark. Having a physical form once again may take some getting used to."

An idea struck me. "Would we be able to do this with Breakdown or Cliffjumper? Even the other clones?" I wondered, looking to Knock Out and then Ratchet.

"They do not have clones, so no. It isn't possible. I'm sorry. Their chassis are at rest, but their memories will live on." the white medic said quietly.

I wilted.

Knock Out cleared his vocalizer, "Shall we check in on the others? Perhaps let them hear the good news?"

"No," Ratchet said immediately.

My wings snapped up, "Why? It isn't like we need to hear how their side of things is going," I said sarcastically.

"That is precisely my point," the older medic maintained, "contacting them will only distract them from their task. We will hear from them when they are finished."

"Not soon enough," I muttered. "I will watch him."

"For how long?" Knock Out asked.

"The rest of the day and the night." I clarified. "And those after that, until he wakes. I am not giving either of you a choice in the matter."

"You do not have any medical training–"

"You said he is unconscious. It has happened to me plenty of times, and each time I woke up, I have been fine. So has he, as a matter of fact." I crossed my arms in triumph.

"Have fun staying awake the whole night," Knock Out drawled and topped it off with a little wave, leaving. Ratchet followed, shooting a glance back at me.

* * *

I started awake, feeling like something had just been right up in my faceplates. A second later I realized the searing liquid metal was gone, and with it was any memory of the pain it brought. It could have been a nightmare for all I knew.

Everything felt so quiet, but then I realized that the assault of memories had ceased as well, thank Primus. Upon further investigation, I found them all tucked away where the should be and breathed a sigh of relief. My vision was sharper than it had been last, which prodded me to wonder why the room I was in seemed so much empiter and darker. I stared up through a skylight in the ceiling and the night sky greeted me, a large, metallic moon blotting out half of it. My optics widened, _I'm on Cybertron. I'm dead and this is the Allspark… but then why did it hurt so much, and why is it so cold and dark?_ I mused, nervousness tingling my spinal struts. I checked my internal clock and discovered that it was about two in the morning. Well, that explained that, and now it was no surprise why I felt so cold.

The second thing I noticed was a small army of machines with lines snaking out of them, hooked up to various places on my chassis. Surprisingly, I felt fine, but I could barely lift my left arm to grasp the base of a cable that was connected to the center of my chest plate, where the Decepticon insignia was. I expected to be weak, of course, but not this much. My systems must have atrophied from lack of use.

"Hm, being dead might do that to a bot." I muttered wryly beneath my vocalizer, not surprised at all to hear how raspy my voice sounded. I almost repeated myself.

I looked down and immediately could tell that I was right, having clearly lost a good amount of weight that I couldn't afford to lose. Amused, I thought that a human would argue that Cybertronians can't actually gain or lose weight like they can, which is true to some degree. Save for a few exceptions like faceplates, the metal that makes up we Cybertronians is not flexible like human skin. But, like the latter, it can grow or waste away depending on the individual's energon consumption, coupled with some other factors. I had always been thin, but now I looked starved and my silvery paint had lost its sheen. However, these things were reparable, and they would give me something to do to appease the doctors. They would undoubtedly take care of me and force me to take intense care of myself for a long time. And I was perfectly fine with that.

I sighed tiredly at the ceiling, "So much for getting up and surprising the others."

A slight movement in the corner of my vision snatched my attention, and I craned my neck cables to see its source. Seven was recharging in the shadows against the wall, and judging by the way he was slumped, he had been trying to stay alert but succumbed. I smiled bemusedly and tried to sit up, but only made it a few feet before I just couldn't hold myself up any longer.

Seven shifted at the scraping noise my wings made against the berth and a dim, crimson glow appeared as he opened his optics. He pushed himself into a better sitting position and got up, looking around. His optics grew wide and a wider, astounded grin split his faceplates as they fell onto me. He hastily opened a comm, "Starscream's awake!"

As my double scrambled over to my side, I saw my stunned reflection in his chest plate. A jagged black streak wound down the right side of my faceplates and chest plate, slashing through the Decepticon insignia and my optics were sky-blue. They were the exact same hue as Optimus', instead of Megatron's. I barely registered the change, too caught up in my double's reaction.

"Star… Primus–what do I say…" he trailed off, awestruck. "You're back," he breathed. "You are actually back… I can't believe it, not sick at all… but you look starved…"

"What day is it?" I asked raspily.

He thought for a second, "November third."

I blinked, shocked by how much time had passed. "Months… I was dead for _months_ ," I whispered shakily. But another thought suddenly struck me, dragging me back into a memory: a few days after Halloween, last year. I looked up to Seven, "Strange coincidence, isn't it?"

His optics flickered in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"Happy birthday, Sev."

His optics widened. "I'm a year old?"

"I suppose so, I think I can count from zero to one." A shiver ran through my frame, "Did the good doctors just pull me from a cooler?" I asked, feeling another.

"You're as whiny as ever," he smirked slightly and swayed on his pedes, looking like he was about to faint.

"You are one to talk." I countered. "Please don't fall on me. I won't be able to push you off."

He ignored my remark, "I have just the thing," my double darted out of my line of sight and came back a minute later, bearing a bulky blanket with tattered edges. "Will this be enough, my lordship?"

I chuckled softly, "Quite. By the way, you promised you would return and you didn't."

"Do you have any control over your dreams?" he gave me a look. "A lot has been going on, if you can't tell." I rolled my optics at that. "Does this look familiar?" he asked, holding the blanket higher with an almost mischievous smirk on his faceplates.

I looked at it harder, "No…" he unfurled the thing and I gawked at it. _Yes._ Large, hand-stitched words greeted me from the center of the quilt: GET WELL SOON. Seven lowered it slightly and grinned at my expression.

"Help me up?" I asked quietly, still transfixed on the blanket.

"Absolutely."

Seven placed the quilt at the foot of my berth and disconnected all the cables from their various places on my frame, which took some doing. He slid an arm behind my shoulder plates, easing me off the berth and to my pedes. I could barely even keep my wings up, but I slowly felt my strength returning. My right leg performed just as well as my left, to my amazement. He nudged me to draw my attention away from gawking at it, chuckling.

"You're staring at everything like a sparkling that's just seen the world for the first time," he said. "And doesn't quite know what to make of it."

"I feel like one…" I breathed, leaning heavily on him for support with an arm wrapped around his back. My double grabbed the thick quilt with his free arm and offered it to me. I gratefully accepted it and pulled the thing snug around my shoulder plates, sighing in pleasure at the immediate warmth it brought.

"Can you stand on your own?" He asked, turning his helm to look at me.

I nodded, and he gingerly stepped away. My legs held. I trailed after him as he strode over to the door, about to open it from the inside. But I took another step and my knee buckled without warning, sending the rest of me to the floor. I let out a surprised yelp and Seven was at my side in an instant, helping me back up again.

"Just stay there, would you?" He said, backing up slowly and lowered his servos.

My wings twitched, "No promises."

He opened the door for real this time and I caught snatches of conversation behind it, unsure yet of who was who.

"What about them?" someone asked.

"Airachnid and CYLAS will carry out their sentences in the brig." another answered.

"It's less than they deserve." a new voice growled.

Then the door fully opened and a multitude of bots burst through the opening, freezing in their tracks as they saw me. Arcee, Bumblebee, Smokescreen, Bulkhead, Ultra Magnus, Knock Out, Ratchet, even Wheeljack, and last but not least, Optimus Prime.

None of them said a word.

I saw that another bot stood behind them, as tall as Optimus. Except his optics were ruby-red, just like Seven's, and his faceplates were just as familiar. Perhaps even more so. Seven saw where I was looking before I could panic and came closer, "Before you woke up, we had a summit with the Decepticons. There is a truce between the two sides now, and we are planning on slowly dissolving both factions. Neither Autobots nor Decepticons will exist anymore. I'm sorry that you missed it, but we weren't able to wake you up."

"Peace," I whispered. The word was foreign, even more than an alien world could ever hope to be. What would I do, with the war over? What would any of us do? Fighting was all we knew, we had been doing it for thousands of years. Could we change our ways, and if we could, would it be for the better?

The bots surged around me. Megatron watched from the background, smirking slightly, no trace of malice in those orbs for once. I glanced at my brother, as he looked to me. Maybe we could. It would take time, but we could.

His wings fluttered gently, "This is most definitely a dream come true."

I smiled, "It most definitely is." I then addressed them all with a grin and spoke as loudly as I could, "Well, we did it. We all did it."

The room burst into applause.


	41. Epilogue

Epilogue

Sunlight stabbed into my eyelids, I'd forgotten to close the drapes over my window last night. I honestly couldn't think of a better alarm clock. I rolled out of bed, but my blankets were tangled around my legs and I fell on the floor with a heavy thud.

I kicked free, and after muttering a few choice words, pulled on some clean clothes (I hope) and went downstairs. I took the steps two at a time and snagged a box of cereal out of a cabinet, pouring myself a bowl. But the box was almost empty and didn't yield nearly enough to fill it, woe is me. I threw it away and grabbed a couple different kinds of cereal, deciding to treat today's breakfast like it came from a Coke Freestyle machine.

I spooned a bit of it into my mouth and after a second of deliberating if Fruit Loops went with Cocoa Puffs or Cheerios, began to wolf it down.

"Morning!" Melody exclaimed, followed by something that sounded unmistakably like she was sliding down the banister.

"Mom said you're not allowed to do that," I gave her a look over my shoulder.

She pouted at me and swung her legs over the edge of it far more gracefully than I had gotten out of bed. "Mommy isn't here."

Then where is she?" I asked behind a mouthful of food.

"That's disgusting."

"So are you."

She gave me a superior look, "Now I won't tell you where she is."

I sighed and dropped my spoon into my bowl with a splash of milk that somehow reached my face. "Mel, is she at least on Earth?"

She crossed her arms and looked the other way. "She's going shopping. Someone's here to see you."

"I'm sorry I said that you're disgusting," I apologized reluctantly, picking up my spoon again. "You know I didn't mean it."

She turned to face me, a sly smile playing across her mouth. "Sorry enough to gimme a sucker?"

I smirked playfully, "Maybe a sucker punch. C'mere, you!" I pushed my now-empty owl away and ran after her as she giggled and whipped around a corner. She took a wrong turn and ended back up in the living room again, which was connected to the kitchen. "I've got you!" I exclaimed, and caught her, tickling her sides. She shrieked between frenzied giggles and tried to jab my sides with her fingers, but I twisted out of her reach.

My dad suddenly walked into the room and I let go of Melody in surprise. "Dad?" His brown, greying hair glinted in the light from the lamp across the room and he pushed his glasses back up his nose, straightening his shirt like Jean-Luc Picard from _Star Trek_.

"You're under arrest!" he drew two finger-guns and joined us. This time, embarrassingly, I was the one shrieking on the floor.

"Dad, cut it out!" I gasped, "I'm a lot older than Mel, too old for this!" he let up, grinning boyishly. "When did you get home?"

"Late last night," he stood and offered his hands to help me and my sister up. We took them, and by some unspoken agreement, pulled him down with us. Melody climbed on top of him, her hair getting into her mouth. "Ha! I win! Take me to the kitchen for breakfast, noble speed!"

I poked her, "It's noble _steed_ , genius."

She blew me a raspberry as Dad crawled toward the kitchen with her on his back. "This is the best ride _ever_!" she squealed.

"Try riding in a jet. He's really, really fast." I grinned, expecting my dad to ask about what I was implying.

He didn't, and gave me a knowing look instead. "Your mother and I talked last night, and she brought me up to speed with everything that's been going on of late."

"Were you up the whole night?" I asked dryly.

"Something like that," he pushed his glasses up his nose again.

"I almost thought it was all a dream," I breathed. "You know what? I'll go get yesterday's mail while I process this."

"Sure thing."

I went and got the mail, then went back inside and began to leaf through it.

"What came?" my dad asked, glancing over at me.

"Nothing much, spam, a letter from our insurance company—looks like premiums are cheaper, that's great," I sifted through the envelopes in my hands, "more spam, jeez, haven't these people ever heard of email?" Let's see…" I trailed off as my fingers found a work package at the bottom. I set the other mail down on the kitchen countertop and looked more closely at the package in my hands.

It had my name on the front of it in sloppy English, like it'd been written by someone who had been rushed when learning how to write it. I carefully turned it over, weighing it in my hands. It was heavier than our normal mail, maybe two or three pounds—four at the most. There was no return address.

"Whatcha got there?" My dad asked, his glasses slipping down his nose as he leaned over.

"Not sure yet," I replied absently.

Piqued, I tore open the top, sifting through its contents. My fingers brushed something smooth and I pulled out a thin, unmarked envelope. I tore its top open as well, and a picture fell out into my hands. I gazed at it in wonder, my heart soaring.

It depicted Will and I standing and grinning at the photographer (thanks, Mom) in the palm of a silver Seeker: Starscream. Seven stood on his left. I could tell the twins apart by the telltale red stripes on the clone's wings and the streak of black down Starscream's right side, as well as his newly blue optics. Other than that, they were identical, both grinning in the same impish way with their helms cocked slightly at the camera. I chuckled softly to myself, remembering my reaction. Because they had put the shrink ray to use, I was able to tackle Starscream on my front steps. Seven got a kick out of that and practically had to drag me off his flustered twin once he'd managed to stop cracking up at his happy predicament.

On the right of Starscream stood Optimus, Ultra Magnus, Bumblebee, and then Smokescreen. On Seven's left were Knock Out, Ratchet, Bulkhead, Wheeljack, and last but not least, Arcee. Everyone was smiling, including the Prime and Magnus, but the corners of their mouths were only turned up ever so slightly. Jack, Miko, and Raf waved from Arcee, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee's servos. Their hands were blurred streaks, frozen in time. The entire photo was such a perfect scene of camaraderie, it was impossible for me not to grin with them.

I eagerly flipped it over, hoping to find a message of some sort like a postcard, but there was nothing. I slipped it back into its envelope and retreated with the picture and the rest of the package to the front steps outside my house for more privacy. I closed the front door behind me and plopped down onto the top step.

Impatient, I upended the package and shook it, making sure everything came out. A strange device with slightly dented sides clasttered to the cement. I picked it up, running my fingers over its smooth surfaces and the seams where they met. _The space bridge remote_ , I realized with shock. Ratchet and Knock Out had enlisted Shockwave's help and together, the three of them had converted the ground bridge remote into a space bridge remote with the readily available Decepticon technology in their spare time, or so I had heard.

I pressed a button on the side to turn it on, and a message flashed on the screen in bright letters. It read:

 **Keep in touch, kid.**

 **-SS**

Elated, I hurriedly stuffed it back in the package and bolted into my house. My dad looked up, sensing my excitement. "Oh, what was it?" he smiled.

"A letter from my friend, you know, the one who moved?" I said breathlessly, grinning ear-to-ear.

"I think. What's his name again?"

"His real name or nickname?" I simpered.

My dad cocked his head at me for a second in thought, "Nickname."

"Star."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"No, why did he send a letter?" he asked.

I gave him a knowing look, "Well, he wants me to visit."

My dad took his glasses off and closed them with a flick of his wrist. "And what are we thinking?"

"Is that even a question?" I shot back.

"How far away does he live?"

"I have a phone number for NASA."

"Oh, _that_ friend," he grinned, suddenly understanding.

I pulled out my cell, selected one of my contacts, and put it to my ear. "Hey, Will? Tony? I've got great news."

* * *

 **A/N: And so it ends. It was quite the ride for me, nearly a two-year-long roller coaster. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did, and if you do, let me know in the reviews. Because it really, really was a blast. So thanks for reading it, and maybe check out the prologue again. ;)**

 **Also, a cool song to listen to that sometimes makes me think of this story is "One Foot" (the Captain Cuts remix) by WALK THE MOON. "I got your back if you got mine..."**


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